


Sing, Banshee

by Caffiend



Category: Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Night Manager (TV) RPF, Thor - All Media Types, Tom Hiddleston Fandom, british actors
Genre: Armor Kink, Asgard, BSDM, Badass Loki, Banshees, Betrayal, Bondage, Brotherly Bonds, Bucky and Steve are in love but share, Competition, Crime, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dr. Banner is the only sensible one, Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Orgasms, God Sex, Hair Kink, Hatred, Heavy Drinking, Hydra, IRA - Freeform, Irish Mythology - Freeform, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Loki gets what he wants, Loki is beautiful, Loki is tortured, Loki's unwilling participation, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Odin is an asshole, Picnics, Revenge, Suit Kink, Superheroes, The Bifrost, Thor is clueless, Torture, Treachery, delayed orgasms, heimdall - Freeform, keening, ley lines, losing virginity, ruthless seduction, screaming Irish families, thanos - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-02-27 15:26:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 101,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13251102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/pseuds/Caffiend
Summary: In which Irish myths and legends turn out to be just as true as the Norse ones. Meaning Loki's not the only one with legendary powers. Even if the girl doesn't know it yet.





	1. "You Have Got To Be Fucking Kidding Me."

**Author's Note:**

> I have no business starting a new story while trying to write the last chapter of "You're Definitely Trouble" and heading "You Belong To Me, Now" to it's inevitable finish. But... the excitement of actually thinking of a new Loki smutfest coupled with my supreme desire for immediate gratification made me begin anyway. Hope you enjoy, and thank you as always for being the lovely, clever community of people I adore! I will try not to disappoint you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet the unfortunate Fiona, run to ground by a fistful of Avengers dead set on bringing her into the fold. Whether she wants to, or not.

"You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me."

Not the most auspicious beginning to any relationship, but this wasn't one Fiona was looking for, and she tended to be a very bad loser. And being surrounded by a group of preening "superheroes" was really testing her limits.

'Superheroes. Really? How cheesy could this be?' she thought bitterly, looking them over and considering her escape options.

Mr Clean Cut- what was his name? Fiona tried to remember, oh, yes... Captain America looked deeply offended, his blue eyes wide. "There's no reason to use profanity, miss. We're here to help."

Unfortunately, this sent the girl off into a helpless round of giggles, even while she was planning to explode his All-American brain later. He couldn't know that any time a sentence was started with "We're here to help," Fiona was quite clear that life was about to get really, really shitty. 

The darker-haired bulk of a man standing next to Mr Clean Cut started idling along to her left, casually, not making any sudden moves but quite clearly intending to flank her. His pale gray-blue eyes had the same wariness Fiona knew could be seen in hers. The almost-feral could always recognize each other. So, she started edging to her right, beginning to hum soothingly. She could see the tension ease from the dark one’s shoulders, and even Captain Arsehole and the mean-looking redhead seemed to be relaxing their rigid stance. 

"I gotta be honest, Captain. Traditionally, offers of help tend the mean the opposite in my neighborhood," Fiona lowered the pitch of her voice, deeper, softer, more vulnerable-sounding.

The big blond put up his hands in a placating fashion. "I understand, Miss McLoughlin. But our offer is sincere. You've got certain... uh... skills that could help so many people."

Still humming, Fiona started swaying slightly, grinning inwardly as the three "Defenders of the Universe" or whatever the hell they called themselves began weaving subconsciously, following her movement. "Aye, aye, Captain. But my 'skills' as you say already help people. People I like. People who deserve it. You know, the poor ones that don't matter." Her humming changed to a gentle version of "Lullaby," enjoying the effort they were making to keep their lids from drooping.

Natasha gave it her valiant best. "I know what it's like to be on the other side of... uh..." The redhead's eyes closed gently, before she jerked herself upright again. "Truth, Justice and the American Way. But Cap's telling the truth. This is your chance to be valuable, to stop being used by every scumbag who's discovered what you can do. So... give us a day... let us..."

Fiona felt mildly regretful. She couldn't help but feel she would have liked this woman, plus, the Russian could rock a black catsuit like nobody's business. The ass on her! But since the girl was disinclined to give herself over to a new set of Lords and Masters who would yet again attempt to exploit her, drain her dry and throw her away, this wouldn't be happening. If these lycra-clad idiots would just have the common _courtesy_ to go to _sleep_ , she would absent herself from the situation and no one would get hurt. Besides, she was almost home free. Captain Handsome and way hot Lycra Lady were sleeping now as they sank gracefully to sprawl on the roof.

But of course, it would have to be that cranky lunatic with the metal arm. The Soldier raised his gleaming limb suddenly, cracking himself on the forehead with it as if to clear the mind-numbing sleepiness trying to unplug his screaming instincts from his ganglia. "You need to shut up now. We know what you're doing, and we will take you in. Don't make me hurt you."

His flat, toneless voice and cold eyes sent a furious jolt up Fiona's spine. Head tilted, she began a new tune.

_"All our times have come_   
_Here but now they're gone_   
_Seasons don't fear the reaper_   
_Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain, we can be like they are..._

_Don't fear the reaper, baby take my hand don't fear the reaper._

_We'll be able to fly..."_

Her voice was heaven. It was poison. It was perfection and no one could resist it, not even the brain-scarred survivor of decades of Hydra-based torment. The Soldier was following her now, eyes glazed with a strange kind of yearning as Fiona edged towards the lip of the rooftop. Not as final as a gun, and this beefy specimen looked pretty durable. Ten stories shouldn't be that debilitating, and then she'd just nip off before anyone woke up, and-

 

"Do you both intend to indulge in a luxurious slumber as this creature lures the Soldier off the roof of the building?" 

Fiona angrily angled towards the new voice, a cold, crisp one coming from the darkness on the far edge of the roof where they'd cornered her in the first place. It was a hell of a chase and she wasn't anywhere as used to running as these unnaturally fit specimens were. But she'd picked her spot. There were ways off this roof that didn't involve getting dashed bloody on the pavement. But now the shadow was moving, and it revealed an unnaturally tall creature. Flowing black hair and a pale face with glittering jade eyes.

"Cernunnos?" she blurted, staring in shock. This was no man. Not a superhero or whatever ridiculous designation with which these people anointed themselves. This was a _God_. And not a friendly one.

The huge creature circled her casually, ignoring the swaying bulk of the Soldier, so very near the edge of the building.

"Cernunnos... Ah. The Celtic God of the underworld, deceit, fertility." To Fiona's alarm, he leaned closer, his eyes blazing in that white face as he smiled unpleasantly. "You are quite close, caoineag. But I am no pitiful deity of this insignificant rock. I am Loki of Asgard."

With a blur of movement, his long arms had the girl immobilized, too shocked to even kick and fight against him, even forgetting the razor sharp knife she kept stashed in her boot. "And now, kjæledyr, it is your turn to rest." Holding her easily as Fiona stiffened, trying to kick against him, Loki trailed one long finger down the bridge of her nose, rendering the girl unconscious in seconds.

 

kjæledyr - Norwegian for "pet"

caoineag - a Celtic female spirit, a Banshee


	2. Muzzled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona finds herself in Stark Towers and totally not buying the "Let's Be A Team!" vibe. Which Loki understands, finding the Avengers "team" concept as utterly repellant as his "team" mates.

Fiona woke to a bland white ceiling, and as she shakily sat up, bland white walls, a bland white desk, a bland white bed, and...

'What the fuck is this!'

Her hands flew to her face, where the only thing in the room containing color- a steel gray- was currently fastened over her mouth, wrapping securely around her head. Heart beginning to pound, Fiona began to feel around the muzzle- there was no other word for it- trying to find a latch to get it off her face. "Those bastards!" she mumbled into the metallic prison, "I _knew_ it! You're here to help me, my fucking arse. I swear to god, that blond son of a bitch is the first to go! Wait..." Her frantic fingers stilled for a moment, remembering the tall and terrifying god who snared her so easily. "Loki? As in the 'killer of New York City' Loki? He flattened me like a cheap souffle, that rat bast-"

Watching the girl furiously struggle with the muzzle through a one-way mirror, Loki frowned. "Why is she wearing that... abomination?"

Thor stood next to him, shifting uneasily. "Director Fury felt it was best to, ah, control the maid's gift until she could be brought into agreement." He looked over at his brother's utterly still expression, which told him Loki was enraged. Remembering the look in his brother's eyes when the identical steel muzzle was fitted over Loki's perfect mouth after his defeat in New York City, the God of Thunder shifted uneasily, looking more like a repentant teenager caught out after curfew. "I know this seems harsh, brother, and I do not agree with-"

"Barbarians."

There was dead silence in the crowded monitoring room, and Loki swept majestically away.

 

Meanwhile, Fiona was back to wrestling with the goddamned muzzle. "Just like a rabid dog," she hissed, the words coming out as garbled nonsense. Thoughts of the last time she'd been held down and an iron bit forced between her teeth came flooding back and the girl began to shake, trying to fight down the swells of panic. Her hands flew from the steel confinement locked to her head and seized a chair, slamming it against the mirror in her room, trying to break the glass.

"You think I don't see you motherfuckers in there!" she was screaming, but nothing came out but a high whistle. "You're worse than the rest because at least they didn't pretend to be anything other than monsters! You-" Slamming the chair over and over into the glass finally made the panel crack and partially shatter with a satisfying crash. 

"Go contain that animal."

The order sent four medics through the door, trying to hold the hysterical girl down and inject her with a sedative. Irritably rolling his eye when Fiona managed to fight them off, he strode into the room, pulling his gun and cracking it over her head, stunning her long enough for the medics to force her down and inject her. Fiona's eyes were blurry with furious tears, but she narrowed them against the sight of the black-suited asshole looming over her, glaring down with his single, malevolent orb.

"You're next, you one eyeballed-bastard..." she slurred, drifting off.

Coldly replacing his Glock in it's shoulder holster, Nick Fury looked down at the unconscious girl impassively. They always began this way. But she would obey, just like they always did.

 

The little room was silent when Fury left, taking his expressionless followers with him. Steve scratched his head, looking anxiously at the Soldier. "Bucky, maybe you shouldn't be watching this... it's different than what you... you went through. You know that, right?"

Barnes' pale eyes turned to his, then back to the unconscious girl before whirling and stalking out of the room. Steve looked next to Natasha, smiling hopefully with that toothpaste white smile. "Tash? We can't reason with her until she's calm, right?"

The redhead pursed her lips, looking at the limp figure sprawled carelessly on the metal bed. Fiona's hand was dropped to the floor, her limbs twisted awkwardly on the thin mattress. Somehow, the fact that Fury's goons couldn't be bothered to settle her made Natasha queasy. Fixing Rogers with her cold gaze, she turned and left the room as well, leaving America's Finest standing alone, staring at the crumpled girl in the sterile, white room.

 

Fiona woke next when the bed under her moved, settling again as a heavy body sat next to her. Shuddering, she weakly pushed against the intruder. "Go 'way," she groaned, "lemme be." She didn't expect him to understand her through the degrading metal muzzle, but a cool voice forced her into consciousness.

"I will not 'go away.' You have slept long enough, you lazy child."

Lids flying open, the girl stared at the intruder with hate. It was Loki, that terrifying God who crushed her defenses and trapped her here. Rearing up with both legs, Fiona shoved her feet against his broad chest and kicked as hard as she could, expecting the haughty asshole to go flying across the room. To her fury, Loki barely twitched.

"Bastard! You did this to me! I swear I'll-"

Fiona's diatribe was cut short by his irritable sigh. "Be quiet, little girl." His big palm caught both her wrists, holding them together firmly. To her shock, a little frisson of arousal went through her from his grip. It had been so long since a man's touch did anything but hurt. "You are correct, I will not hurt you, Caoineag, if you can be still. I wish remove this abomination from your mouth." He could feel the girl's heart pounding- so hard that Loki was surprised he couldn't see it burst from the thin skin of her chest. Fixing her with a frigid stare, the dark Prince nodded firmly.

"Sit back now, like a good girl."

To her rage and embarrassment, Fiona did as she was told, warily leaning back against the thin pillow as she watched his impassive face. The God was as beautiful as she remembered, sculpted cheekbones and a haughty set to his mouth, those forest-colored eyes prying into hers. He smelled so good, like... snow. Mountains. Pine. Winter nights. Shivering, she tried to look away, humiliated that her hateful captor knew what she was thinking. And he _did._ Fiona could tell by his smug grin.

"You said you would take this fucking muzzle off," she hissed, wondering how he could untangle the garble of words the metal device created. 

Long, pale fingers slid along the device, his gaze intent on releasing it. "Ah, there it is..." With a 'click,' the metal was removed, and Fiona gave a huge gasp, gratefully sucking in the stale air of the room.

Loki watched as her pink lips opened wide, ready to let out a scream of epic proportions. Quickly placing a large hand over her mouth, he leaned in. "Hush!" he scolded, "This is not the time for your keening, Clíodhna. Close your mouth, and listen."

Painfully licking cracked and dry lips, Fiona gave a bitter chuckle. "Listen? To what? More lies? This isn't the first time this has happened, your _Highness,"_ she sneered.

One perfect brow rose as he gazed down at her. "I am somehow not surprised. You are not... subtle. Now hold your tongue. Do not give them further ammunition to control you."

Rearing back, Fiona stared at Loki with astonishment. He was trying to _help_ her? Impossible. He was the reason she was here in this off-white hellhole. Still, keeping her mouth shut for the moment wasn't such a bad idea. Pressing her full lips together, the girl made the sign of a key and locking it. When her captor stared at her blankly, she rolled her eyes and simply nodded.

"Such a good girl..." Loki praised, cool fingertips briefly touching her mouth before he moved away. Bending gracefully from his great height, the dark Prince picked up the discarded muzzle, looking back to Fiona. Really, he thought dispassionately, the girl was so much more attractive with that harpy mouth closed. Even wearing those filthy, torn jeans and a faded band t-shirt, Fiona was lovely. Tall, too slim but clearly out of shape, the girl had long hair so red that it was nearly burgundy, displaying her Irish roots with intensely blue eyes, the color of the sky over the Cliffs of Moher. And her pale, freckled skin was flushing so prettily from his praise of being "a good girl." Grinning inwardly, he congratulated himself. This Avenger's acquisition was becoming more entertaining by the moment.

Fiona's brow furrowed when Loki suddenly handed her the hated muzzle.

"Here."

When the girl looked up at him in confusion, he sighed dramatically. "What would you like to do with this monstrous device?"

Watching her face clear, then convulse in fury, Loki smiled darkly. There she was, the bitter, viperousbánánach. 

Trying not to scream, Fiona turned and threw the muzzle as hard as she could against the newly-repaired observation mirror, hearing it splinter again with a deeply satisfying 'crack!' Moving over to where it fell on the floor, she began stomping on it as hard as she could with her steel-toed boots, growling in frustration as it refused to break. Feeling her confusing captor move to her side, the girl watched as his black boot slammed down on the metal, crushing it to a pulp.

"There now, Banshee. Do you feel better?"

Taking a deep breath and trying to dial back her rage, Fiona nodded. "I do," she admitted in surprise, "thank you."

Her head tilted back to see the sudden flash of remorse in those emerald eyes before his regard turned impassive again. "Do not thank me. Just... be silent. At least for now."

 

"Um, so welcome, Fiona." Steve's bright smile dimmed as the girl stared at him, her expression clearly indicating she was pondering which part of his anatomy to slice first. "I know... I know this isn't how we wanted to introduce you to the new plan that came out of the Secovia Accords, but you've got a great gift, and you could be so valuable to international stability..."

"What he means, buttercup, is the UN and S.H.I.E.L.D are looking for a more diverse group of superheroes. They think we're a little too pasteurized and homogenized for the world stage." Tony Stark came strutting around the corner of the massive bar in the "break room" for the Avengers, a (slightly) more cosy greeting room in Stark Tower than the numerous massive halls scattered through the building. His bravado faded a bit at the Irish girl's expressionless gaze, and disappeared completely when he caught a glimpse of her eyes, alight with hate like the fires of hell. "I know our introduction isn't as friendly as we hoped, but trust me, Banshee, you're gonna love it here."

He was just beginning to sweat under her regard when Fiona finally spoke. "Don't call me that. You don't know anything about me."

Steve broke in, relieved to have anything to ask. "Okay, no problem. What would you like us to call you?"

The girl's lovely, blank stare was back on him. "Fiona."

"Well, that's sweet, buttercup," Tony eagerly intervened again, "but we all have our badass name. Iron Man." He pointed at himself. "Captain America," Steve gave her a hopeful grin. "Tall, dark and scary over there is Reindeer Games," Stark almost giggled, gesturing at an impassive Loki. "Soooo... what should we call you? Banshee? It seems like a good-"

"My. Name." the girl not quite hissed, "Is Fiona. Or Miss McLoughlin to you. You're not my friend, arsehole. You don't get a nickname for me. Especially when you won't live long enough to use it."

Rogers closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. This was such a bad idea. The worst idea in the history of bad ideas...

 

Fiona stiffened as those cool, long fingers slid along her neck. "Kjæledyr, what did I tell you?" Loki's lips tickled along her skin, his broad chest pushed intrusively against her back.

"That you're an arrogant arse?" It was childish, she knew, but she just _hated_ this-

"No," Loki purred into her sensitive ear, "I instructed you to be silent. Now close those pretty lips before I shove something between them."

To her shock, Fiona had a searingly vivid image of the dark Prince's cock in her mouth and down her throat, his cruel face enjoying her gagging. Her lips opened to shriek at him, only to close with a snap as his thumb and forefinger casually clicked together. Enjoying her helpless little hisses, Loki smiled down at her in a parody of tenderness, ignoring the uncomfortable shifting of their reluctant witnesses. "Kjæledyr? Hmmm?" 

Still hissing thinly between those pretty white teeth, Fiona reluctantly nodded, lowering her eyes in submission. Oh, the plans she had for this horrible bastard-

"No, little monster," his voice echoed painfully in her skull, "I am your Daddy. Now, hush."

 

**Caoineag - Celtic spirit, a banshee**

**Clíodhna - Scottish/Irish spirit who calls down death with her keening**


	3. I Promise To Try.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona meets even more new people to not trust. Loki solidifies his role as Daddy. Whether Fiona wants a Daddy or not. Also, pizza with everything. Including anchovies.

“So what are we supposed to do with her?”

Steve was slumped on the couch, blond head in his hands. Stark wandered around the room, picking things up and putting them down again in an absent, ADHD fashion. Taking another gulp of vodka, he shrugged. “She’s not a fan, no question about it. That muzzle certainly didn’t help, but Fury said it would be the only thing keeping her from killing us if she wanted to, so…”

“She didn’t want to.” 

The flat voice of the Soldier came from the doorway. “She could have made me tear my own heart out, shoot myself in the head, and she didn’t. That fall off the building wouldn’t have been something that would kill me. Hurt me, yes. A lot.” He trailed off, thinking about it. “She tried to put us to sleep.”

Raising his drooping head, Steve agreed. "Bucky's right. Even after that chase and cornering her, she didn't attempt to hurt us. I know she was armed."

Frowning, Stark asked, "And why is Reindeer Games so interested? He despises us "petty mortals," and that kid's got some rough edges on her."

Bucky walked in, seating himself carefully with his back to the wall so that he could see the entire room. "I think it's the muzzle. He remembers. I've seen the video footage of Thor putting that thing on him." Pushing his tangled black hair back from his face, he asked, "Where's the girl now?"

"Banner's lab," Steve said, rising from the couch and stretching. "Bucky, you want to hit the gym with me?"

 

“So, Fiona…” Bruce trailed off, reading the girl’s dossier. “Nice to meet you.” He looked up and smiled, ignoring that the girl did nothing but stare back at him, expressionless. “I’m the only doctor here, and I don’t want to send for a S.H.I.E.L.D. physician, because I’m guessing you’re not fond of the organization, based on what happened this morning.” Bruce’s jaw tightened, remembering all the times he’d been caged like an animal. At least his big, green self was capable of tearing through nearly anything. This little girl couldn’t weigh more than 120, soaking wet. “I know that you’re probably thinking of belting out a song or two and getting out of here, but the lab locks down as a safety protocol. Even if you could find your way from here, the rest of Stark Tower’s just as annoying. I can’t even get from here to the kitchen without flashing my badge three times and two retinal scans!” The doctor ignored the stifled chuckle from Loki, who bypassed all the safety restrictions and simply shifted from one room or floor to the next with infuriating ease. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd let me conduct an examination without doing anything." Watching the girl shrink away from him, Bruce shook his head. "Nothing that hurts, I promise! This isn't experimentation, no one's going to do anything like that to you. The worst thing I might give you is a vitamin shot." 

Fiona's shoulders slumped. "I guess," she muttered ungraciously. At least it would get rid of Loki and his unsettling ability to read her mind and turn her on in the most awkward of situations.

The god in question however didn't seem inclined to move from where he was lounging gracefully in Bruce's desk chair, the most comfortable seat in the room.

"Loki."

Emerald gaze still fastened on Fiona, Loki lazily hummed in inquiry to Bruce's call.

"Loki, you uh, you have to leave. This is an examination and I'm required to protect my patient's privacy." Banner's voice was firmer than usual, sharper. Most of the group had long forgotten that he was an MD before turning to nuclear and genetic science. The dark Prince's regard moved to him, and after a tense moment, nodded. 

"Very well." Turning to Fiona, he deliberately loomed over her. "Little one. If you attempt to hurt Dr. Banner or escape, I will be very, _very_ displeased with you."

The girl shook her head, "You're not my Da'," she sneered, "and you don't tell me what to do. But I like him-" she nodded to a round-eyed Bruce, "-so I'll be good."

Loki gave a low chuckle and bent down slightly to whisper, "I may not be your- what charming colloquialism did you use? Ah, yes. Da. But I _am_ your daddy." Enjoying the anxious intake of breath from his new toy, he straightened and left the room.

“So, what was _that_ all about?” Banner enquired uneasily, straightening his glasses.

“Ugh,” hissed Fiona, “I dunno. He’s the one that knocked me out, so Prince Perfect thinks he’s got the edge on me. That will change.” Eyeing her malevolent smile, the doctor didn’t doubt it.

Gently and calmly, Bruce conducted a physical examination, keeping up a soothing series of questions designed to not feel too intrusive and put the Irish girl on edge. Her body posture was constantly that of a rabbit ready to bolt.

“Well, you’re pretty healthy Fiona, you’re low on iron and several key vitamins. I’m guessing poor nutrition, lack of sleep?” Waiting for her reluctant nod, he continued, “5’10, 115 pounds, low muscle tone.” He chuckled at her look at outrage. “I’m just saying you’d feel better by gaining a few pounds and maybe a little weight-lifting or something.”

Exiting from that document on his computer and pulling up the next, he eyed the girl. She was drinking some orange juice he’d pushed her to take and was playing with the frayed end of a hole in her jeans.

“Do you feel like you could answer some questions about your history and your… um, your gift?”

Here, those ocean eyes narrowed at him. “It’s no fuckin’ gift, doc. I’m on the run all the time. All kinds of vile bastards want to use me. I’ve been caged, beaten. I used to wear a horse bit between my teeth when one-” her voice choked a bit, and Fiona forced herself to stop.

Bruce took a deep breath, feeling that angry green self give a growl somewhere by his spine. “I understand more than you know. I’ve been through all those things, too. Experimented on. My family dead. And every time this… thing gets loose inside me, I wonder if this is the time I won’t be able to put him back. If I’ll be that thing forever.” Mildly shocked at blurting out so much to this odd girl, he straightened his glasses again. Fiona was eyeing him curiously.

“What… comes out of you, doc?”

“You didn’t know?” Bruce said bitterly. “Tony’s so good about throwing my name out when he’s bragging about the Avengers. I’m the monster. The Hulk.”

“I’ll be goddamned,” breathed the girl. “So, you’re real? I heard so many great stories about you- saving people and such.” It dragged out the first smile Banner had seen on her sullen face, but it faded quickly. “How’d you end up with these lycra-suited arseholes?”

The doctor laughed, rising to take her empty bottle of juice and push some crackers and cheese at her. "I don't blame you for hating them, based on your introduction. But they are the good guys- well, and Natasha, who is definitely no guy..." He looked misty for a moment and Fiona hid her grin by stuffing another cracker in her mouth. Collecting himself, Bruce went on, "They are. And they're the first people I've able to trust since I started sharing my body with the big, green guy."

Fiona cocked her head. "You don't like saying his name. Is this like, never saying Voldemort so he won't appear?"

Bruce scratched his head uncomfortably. "Maybe?" Sighing, he put on another smile. "Let's talk about you, okay?" The girl irritably rolled her eyes, but nodded reluctantly.

Scanning the dossier again, he murmured, "Fiona McLoughlin, aged 26. First came on the radar in 2010 when you were kidnapped by- Marcus Kahn, drug dealer, protection rackets, fraud and then high-level blackmail? That was after snatching you?"

Her full mouth twisted again. "Yeah."

Bruce courteously waited a moment, but it looked like she wasn't interested in sharing. "Your gift... your voice, that's why Tony called you Banshee, right? You compel people to do what you want with your voice."

Fiona laughed, but it was harsh and utterly joyless. “No, I compelled people to do whatever the bastard who currently owned me wanted them to do.” She angrily stood, pacing back and forth across the lab. “It’s only been this year that I’ve been strong enough and sneaky enough to stay free of that filth and do what I wanted…” she sat down abruptly. “Until now, of course. New masters. Same story.” To her shame, Fiona could feel the tears well in her eyes, and she dropped her chin, trying to hide from a stricken Bruce.

“No, no honey- it’s not like that, I swear!” His earnest face was filled with sorrow, and the doctor awkwardly patted her arm. “No one’s going to force you to do anything. This isn’t about cheating people and stealing. What we do- it’s not like that. I know you don’t believe me but give us a chance to prove it to you- I promise!”

He could feel her pull away- it was an almost visceral removal of energy. "Your people chased me through Belfast. Cornered me on a rooftop. Knocked me unconscious to wake up in a cell, muzzled like a dog. Four arseholes tried to hold me down to drug me, and that one-eyed bastard finished the job by cracking me over the head with his gun." She turned her lovely face away. 

"You're all the same."

Loki, who'd been sitting silently in the corner, invisible but quite attentive, watched the entire, pitiful scene.

 

When Fiona angrily insisted on leaving the lab, it was Natasha who came for her.

"Oh, look. My new guard," the girl said flatly, eying the Russian's rather spectacular figure in another one of those catsuits. 

The corner of Natasha's luscious lips twitched, but she simply tilted her head. "Come along."

The long walk to the elevator was silent, and as Fiona watched the numbers click off as they soared up, she suddenly blurted, "So, do you have like a hundred of those suckers in your closet? Because if my ass looked like that, I'd probably wear nothing but black lycra too."

The Widow stifled a laugh. "Well, I do have several," she allowed, "they tend to get burned and cut up a lot. And thank you for the compliment about my ass."

It's not a compliment," Fiona shook her head, "more like a statement of fact."

There was dead silence for a moment, then they both erupted into laughter. Fiona was stunned at how good it felt to laugh again. She followed the redhead down a long hallway, more lush than the surroundings she'd seen before. Stopping in front of an unmarked door, Natasha tapped her badge against a sensor and it slid open. 

"Impressive science fiction shite," Fiona nodded. "Does everything work like that here?"

Snorting inelegantly, Natasha said, "Tony's very fond of ostentatious display. You'll see quite a lot of that during your stay."

"Don't plan on me hanging around," snarled Fiona. "I'm not much of a team player." She was a little disconcerted when the redhead simply laughed, patting her lightly on the arm. 

"Believe me, I said the same thing," Natasha soothed, eyeing the big room critically. It was beautifully furnished in that bland, elegant, upscale hotel room sort of way. "We'll have to go shopping and get you some things. This place is depressing as hell."

"I won't-"

"I know, I know," Natasha interrupted, flapping a dismissive hand. "But while you're here, we should make you more comfortable. Are you hungry? Because you look like you've missed a few meals."

Fiona shifted uneasily. She felt uncomfortable in this fancy room, and her battered boots and filthy band t-shirt weren't helping. But she _was_ starving. And if the Russian was buying... "I could eat," she grudgingly allowed.

"What do you like?"

The freedom of being able to choose overwhelmed the girl a little. "What, like, you mean... anything?"

Natasha laughed, 'Like music,' Fiona thought resentfully, 'of course even her laugh would be perfect.'

"Yes, Fi, anything."

"Pizza and whiskey? Good Irish whiskey, none of that snotty American shite?" The girl could feel her mouth water.

Natasha nodded as if this was nothing. "What do you want on the pizza?"

Seriously, her head was swimming, Fiona thought hazily, almost giddy with her freedom. "Extra cheese. Sausage. Peppers, onions, mushrooms, olives, ham, Canadian bacon and regular bacon. Oh, and anchovies."

Not quite gagging, the Russian nodded. "Anchovies on half the pizza, then. Why don't you go take a shower? There's some clothes in the closet you can use until we pick up some things you like."

 

"They're trying to buy you," Fiona moaned blissfully. "They're trying to buy you with pizza and a hot shower and, Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Those are the thickest towels I've ever seen!" Nonetheless, she finished her excruciatingly hot shower, enjoying her beet-red skin that smelled delightfully of lavender and rosemary. There was a thick vanilla lotion on the sink, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste. A blow-dryer for her irritatingly thick mass of wet hair and a robe so soft and comfortable that Fiona vowed to never remove it again. Slowly brushing her now dry hair, the girl frowned at herself in the mirror. It had just occurred to her that she'd not seen Loki since he left her in the lab. What was he doing? Did he live here, in the Tower too? Why was he helping these idiots, since they were the ones to bring him down?

A knock on the door startled her. "Fi? If you're ready, the pizza's here."

 

"Don't lie to me. This is the best goddamn pizza you've ever stuffed in that perfect mouth of yours." Fiona spoke around a gigantic bite, chewing the juicy, messy mouthful in bliss.

Having taken a much smaller bite, Natasha nodded. "It's pretty good. I know Tony's personal chef has one of those fancy wood-fired brick ovens for pizza. He's such a food snob."

Sighing happily, Fiona swigged a generous gulp of the Jameson Black Barrel whiskey straight from the bottle. "Oh, shite, did you want some of this?" The other redhead started laughing. 

"No, honey. I'm Russian, remember?" She held up a tall bottle of Spirytus. "However, this could be considered treason, since this vodka's made in Poland." 

Fiona laughed and clanked her bottle against Natasha's. "Sláinte!"

Nodding, Natasha took a hearty swig, flinching as it went burning down her esophagus. "Ваше здоровье!" 

Three slices each and a half a bottle later, the two women were sprawled on the surprisingly comfortable suede couch in the main room. Sighing, Fiona cut to the chase. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

Natasha shrugged, looking unfairly untouched by the booze and pizza binge. "You remind me of me, I suppose. And you don't have a lot of friends here yet, though no one can blame you for that." She sat up, looking at the younger girl seriously. "I know you're not used to this, but- I don't want anything from you. I'm not here to trick you into anything. The Avengers want to set up an international team that represents more of the world's culture- you won't even have to work with these guys too often if you don't want to after you finish training. Just... give it a little time before you try to break out of here, all right?"

Fiona was pouting, idly peeling the label off her expensive bottle of whiskey. "I didn't _ask_ to be here. I don't _want_ to be here."

Shrugging, the other woman agreed with her. "True. But you've spent the last ten years being stuck where you didn't want to be. And in the end, if you won't work with us, you'll just... go. No one will force you to stay. If it makes you feel any better, you're not the first person we've dragged here against their will. People like us... we're not used to expecting any positive outcome when someone tries to recruit us. Believe me, I was with Hydra for 20 years."

"Ah, I forgot about that," Fiona admitted. "Sorry..."

She cringed a little to see Natasha's eyes go dead. It took a moment before the Russian seemed to go "online" again. "It's done. We all have things we want to forget." Fixing Fiona with a stare, she leaned closer. "Promise me you'll stay for a few days. Keep an open mind."

The Irish girl bit her lip, staring at the Widow. She looked so sincere... not that it meant anything. But she did bring her pizza and whiskey. "I won't promise to stay," Fiona finally said, "but I promise to try."

"Good enough," Natasha agreed, then leaned forward, taking her chin in one warm little hand, and placing her pouting mouth against Fiona's startled one. "Sealed with a kiss." Smiling at the girl's gaping stare, she tucked her vodka bottle under her arm. "See you in the morning, Fi."

Dazedly cleaning up the pizza carnage and stowing the rest in the stainless steel SubZero fridge, Fiona shook her head, singing "I Kissed A Girl..." as she headed into the bedroom.

 

She dreamt of Loki that night.

"Kjæledyr..." Fiona shuddered to hear his beautiful, dark voice in her ear. "Have you been a good girl for me today?" It was such a vivid dream, she thought, feeling his cool hands run over her shoulders and arms, bare now that the robe had worked open as she slept. When one broad palm slid to her belly, Fiona moaned.

"Yes, Daddy..." Stiffening as she realized what she'd said, the girl tried to pull away from those roaming hands, which seemed to turn into steel, holding her still. They soothed and petted her, waiting for the girl's anxious body to still and then relax back into the luxurious mattress.

"There's a good girl," Loki's voice was sin, poured into her head and making it feel wrapped and cuddled in cotton candy. "Such a good girl for Daddy."

Suddenly, she was standing in front of the massive floor to ceiling window, pressed against the cool glass and staring at the lights of the city. 

"Raise your hands over your head." His voice was impossible to defy. Fiona raised her hands over her head, gasping when one strong hand took them both, wrapping something around them.

"Oh!"

He'd pulled her up on her toes, yanking her arms up sharply. Dancing en pointe, she turned in a helpless circle. "Daddy?"

"Shhh... little savage." Fiona could feel his broad chest behind her, supporting her back as his hands settled on her hips, long fingers dipping into the sensible white cotton undies she'd found in the dresser. "Look out. What do you see?"

Forcing her eyes open and trying not to whimper as those treacherous digits began stroking along her tender slit, Fiona moaned, "Uh... New York City?" It was so hard to concentrate- feeling him touch those private places that she'd killed men from reaching before. But the solid feel of his chest supporting her as the girl danced on the tips of her toes gave her a little sense of security.

"Your Kingdom, darling. No one owns you, certainly not these posturing swine. But Daddy will take care of you. Help you become strong. Unafraid. Can you be my brave girl?"

Fiona moaned. Loki was confusing her... her arms were tight and her slack muscles beginning to tremble. But he wanted something... no, that wasn't right. Not something from her. The infuriating Asgardian wanted her to be something, "What do you want from me?" 

His resulting chuckle, deep, throaty, vibrating against her sensitized skin, made the girl shudder. "I want everything. Everything you are." His big hands slid along her again, the left stroking along the swelling lips of her pussy, the right circling her tightening nipples and gently squeezing her breasts. Fiona barely noticed as her ass pressed back against the hard part of him beginning to nudge against her. "The question is, what do you want?"

"Ohhh..." she moaned pitifully, "I..."

Loki made an impatient noise, sharply slapping the underside of each breast, and slapping them again when she gasped. "Focus! Tell Daddy what you need?"

Fiona shook her head. "I'm sorry- I don't..." Those long fingers were inside her now, roughly stroking along her channel, making her convulse against the invading digits. Her back arched desperately, trying to make them rrub against that deep, secretive part of her inside. She went back up en pointe as Loki slapped her pussy sharply. 

"You do not disobey me and push like a common whore for your finish! Now tell Daddy. What."

Slap!

"Do."

Slap!

"You."

Slap, slap!

"Want?"

The last slap sent Fiona reeling, gasping from the pain that took the edge off her pleasure, replacing it with the sharp balance of discomfort that simply ratcheted up her need to come.

"Tell me!" Loki's voice thundered in her ear, the grip of his long fingers suddenly cruel against the soft flesh of her bosom. 

"Daddy!" Fiona wailed, "Can I please come?" Suddenly, she felt her shaking legs kicked apart and then three fingers push against her pussy.

"You may," Loki growled in her ear, "sing for me, Banshee."' And with another clever twist of his fingers, she did, Fiona wailing and arching against his knowing fingers, body pressed against the harder one of his. When he'd ruthlessly pulled the orgasms from her body, toying with her clit and her quaking insides, the prince finally heard her pleas and stopped the wonderfully satisfying torment. Untying her and catching Fiona before she could fall to the floor like bag of flour, Loki wrapped his long arms around her, rocking the shaking girl back and forth. "Such a good girl," he purred soothingly, "such a good girl for her daddy."

 

 

 

 

  _ **Sláinte: Gaelic for "to your health!"**_

 

_**"Ваше здоровье!"  Russian for 'cheers!"  Thank you, Marquensis!**_


	4. Getting To Know You...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona manages to make friends and lose them within the same 24 hours. Because she's never been known for her social skills.

Natasha showed up in the morning- as threatened- right at 6am. After relentlessly pounding on the door until she heard the "thud!" of something heavy shattering against it, the Russian heard her new friend shriek, "Go fuck yourself sideways! What the hell is wrong with you!"

Grinning unkindly, Natasha leaned against the door. "I'm not leaving until you come out. I've heard these doors are bulletproof..." she died off threateningly, examining her nails. "We could try that theory out."

Silence, then a sullen "Aiteann! Gimme five minutes."

When Fiona bitterly stomped out of the apartment, she was wearing a baggy t-shirt over lurid pink basketball shorts, her uncontrollable mane of hair twisted up into a topknot bristling with hairpins. Pursing her pink mouth, she looked Natasha over. She had a workout catsuit. Of course. The Russian looked smooth and perfectly put together, while she, Fiona, looked like a homeless pup raised by wolves.

“Good morning!” Natasha chirped adorably.

Fiona merely growled, but the Russian paused for a moment. Did that- did the floor rumble for a second there? She glanced sharply at Fiona, but the girl was busy yawning and scratching. Wryly, she thought, ‘Maybe I’m the one hungover today…’

“Now, look it’s really easy-” Natasha was attempting to teach her irritable Irish protege some self-defense moves, but the girl was wheezing after thirty minutes of brisk education. Standing over her with hands on cat-suited hips, the Russian shook her head. “I can see we’ll have to build up your stamina, дорогая.”

Opening one vivid blue eye, Fiona narrowed it threateningly. “I’m a musician, Nat, not an triathlete. I’ve got no interest.”

Gracefully seating herself next to the panting girl, The Widow shook her head. “Are you even the slightest bit embarrassed that we ran you to ground in less than five minutes? For god’s sake girl, have some dignity!”

"Isn't it time for breakfast?" Fi whined, weakly trying to kick at the laughing Natasha.

 

It had actually been the Russian's intent to take Fiona to breakfast early, hopefully avoiding most of the building's inhabitants and giving the girl some breathing room. So, naturally luck was not on her side and nearly everyone categorized as an Avenger was crowded into the huge kitchen. And, of course, every head turned to stare as they came through the door. Neatly looping her arm through that of Fiona, who gave every evidence of intending to retreat, Natasha sighed. "What's everyone doing up so early? Even you, Tony? I thought we had to set your mattress on fire to get you up before noon."

Absently drinking his coffee as his gaze stayed fixed on the nervous Irish girl, Stark shrugged. "We've got a team meeting in an hour. Give Banshee here a chance to meet-"

"Do. Not. Call ME THAT!"

Fiona's voice was rising and suddenly, the coffee cup just set down by Tony fell off the table, shattering on the floor. Natasha knew he'd not even been in the room a second before, but suddenly Loki was behind the furious girl, one big hand enclosed around the back of her neck.

"Easy Kjæledyr, retract those claws. This is not an auspicious moment to display your talents." His darkly stern whisper brought Fiona into sudden focus, and she licked her lips, taking a deep breath. "There's a good girl..." His purr so close to her head made her whimper internally. Loki chuckled, then suddenly removed his hand and stepped briskly to the buffet table. "Ah, the 'bacon' Thor so enjoys. A gift from the gods that any is left." Of course, he took it all and strolled away to seat himself elegantly by the window.

"I was looking at that," the girl said sadly, watching her favorite breakfast item disappear down the Prince's elegant throat.

Forcing a laugh, Natasha looked sternly around the room, and suddenly everyone found something else to look at, chatter beginning again. "I'll order more, it only takes a minute." Leading Fiona to the long buffet table, she gestured invitingly. "What else would you like?"

This was a mistake. The girl's eyes were wide, darting between bangers and mash, a pile of french toast dripping with syrup, three different kinds of omelets crowded between baskets of rolls, toast, croissants, biscuits, a huge platter filled with a luscious array of fruit including several she'd never seen before and numerous carafes of juice and coffee. "I don't..." Tucking a strand of hair escaped from her topknot behind her ear, Fiona shook her head. It was embarrassing enough to have everyone watch her, but there were too many choices and she shifted anxiously. "There's too much- it's... Maybe just coffee?"

Forcing a light tone, Natasha shrugged. "I'm going to grab a little of everything and you can snack off my plate if you want. Oh, look! And here's the bacon!"

Eating slowly, Fiona tried to keep the food down as her stomach began twisting with anxiety, attempting to keep up with the Widow’s casual commentary. To make matters worse, she could feel the malevolent chill of Loki brushing against the back of her neck where he’d seized her to stop the escalation from more than a broken coffee mug.

"-you can see where it seems strange"

Startled, she looked up into Natasha's expectant face. "I'm sorry, what?"

Leaning closer, the Russian eyed her speculatively, "Loki. How he suddenly appeared like that. How he calmed you down. You said you don't have any history?"

Stuffing the last piece of bacon- whole- into her mouth, Fiona stared at her as she crunched thoughtfully. "Of course not," she finally answered thickly, taking a swallow of juice to clear her suddenly dry throat. "you may remember that I met him in the most delightful social setting on a rooftop cornered by the rest of you in the A-Team, then promptly knocked out by his Asgardian mojo. I dunno why he's bossing me about but it's getting on my last nerve."

“The Avengers, Lady Fiona, not the- what did you call them? The A-Team?” corrected Thor, making his presence known as his bulk cast the entire table into shadow. Craning her neck to look up his gigantic chest and at his pleasant face, she pursed her lips.

“Pardon you?”

Thor chuckled, apparently unruffled by her sass. “Thor Odinson of Asgard, Lady. A pleasure to meet you.”

“She’s no lady,” came a dry voice over his enormous shoulder. He turned to find the only other man in the room as tall as he was- likely the only man in the downtown metropolitan area of Manhattan as tall as he was- Loki, arms folded in his beautifully tailored black suit, and green gaze examining a bristling Fiona.

"Brother!"

Loki sighed as he was engulfed in tree-trunk sized arms, determinedly forcing his brother's affections on him. "Yes, brother, always a pleasure. Could you release me? You are embedding your very cellular structure into my suit, and it was tailored for me just yesterday."

Thor's laughter boomed through the room, refusing to be offended by his sibling's disgust.

"Oh, good, Point Break's here!" Stark's irritatingly cheerful face somehow wedged between the brothers. "That means we can get started."

 

"Why am I part of this?" Fiona hissed as she was not-quite hustled down the hallway and into another huge meeting room. She heard the hateful, harsh chuckle before she spotted Fury, sitting at the head of the table and sneering at her, as if this was yet another board meeting and she was there to take notes and serve coffee.

"Because you're the guest of honor."

Fiona stood very still, feeling the chill spread over her like a bucket of ice water thrown in her face- which had happened more than once in the Kahn's cellar- 'Stop,' she lectured herself, 'no going back. You canna afford to get distracted now.'

Clearing his throat impatiently when the Irish girl gave no response, Fury leaned forward again, fixing her with a single, baleful eye. "Miss McLoughlin? Are you paying any attention here?"

“Aye, ya filthy-” Fiona stopped and gritted her teeth. Her accent turned thick when she was particularly enraged, and she couldn’t afford a “tell” with these bastards. Fuck ‘em all- they were putting in _earplugs_ , even Natasha. Only the suddenly stern Loki and that big-ass golden retriever of a brother kept their arms folded, still looking at her.

“Goodness gracious,” she simpered, “all that protective equipment because of lil’ ol’ me?” Fiona waved her hands daintly, “I feel so flattered, the mighty Bingers scared of-”

“The Avengers, Lady Fiona,” Thor interrupted earnestly, “they are called the Avengers.”

Continuing as if the suddenly anxious Asgardian hadn’t spoken, the girl fluttered her eyes at the uneasy combination of Steve Rogers and his black-hearted boyfriend- what did they call him? Buckwheat or something? “I mean, really, what girl couldn’t be flattered by so many of the Agitators in one room?”

“Lady, the Aveng-”

Loki interrupted tiredly, “Brother, she is baiting you.”

Sashaying delicately closer to Fury, hands on hips, Fiona smiled sweetly at the glowering director. "Good morning, Director Farty, stopping by for another round of pistol-whipping? How about we make it fair this time and you give me a gun, too?"

Fury finally spoke, his voice louder, not being able to hear his own voice, muffled by the heavy earplugs. "You've had a good night's sleep-" he sniffed contemptuously, "and a shower, I see. So it's time to discuss your particular skills." He waited, but the girl simply raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. "Instead of influencing rich businessmen to invest in bogus developments or spill their dirty little secrets for blackmail, you have the opportunity, Miss McLoughlin, to utilize your skills for protecting people, instead of stealing from them."

"Well, of course, Director Fang, of course I was influencing victims for my own, selfish means." Fiona could feel the rage sweep over her again, and she didn't try to fight it down this time. It felt so _good_ , so freeing to not hold back. Behind her, Loki was moving subtly to the left, but she was wise to his methods now, and casually stepped on to a leather chair and then the expensive walnut table. "What do you need to know? What can I share that could help you?"

Fury could read lips, she noticed, as he snorted. "Exactly how far does this Voice of yours carry? Can it kill? What can it do aside from persuasion and mind control?"

Fiona elaborately tilted her head, tapping one finger thoughtfully to her lips as she angled on the other side of the endless table, forcing Loki to move in the opposite direction. The rest of the group simply stood still, eyeing her warily as they followed her movements. The way Natasha’s head tilted told her they were getting a translation of the conversation between her and Fury.

“Oh, it’s getting to know you time, is it?” She smiled sweetly, and began to sing.

_“As a teacher I've been learning_

_You'll forgive me if I boast_

_And I've now become an expert_

_On the subject I like most_

_Getting to know you_

_Getting to know you_

_Getting to know all about you…”_

The earplugs weren’t as useful as they’d expected, she watched with a grim sort of pleasure as they began swaying- just slightly- as she tap-danced nimbly down the table, scarring the mirror finish with her scuffed boots.

_“Getting to like you_

_Getting to hope you like me…”_

Fiona leaned closer to where a paralysed Steve and Bucky were rooted to the spot, before raising her arms invitingly. The dazed men turned to each other, wrapping arms to pull each other closer, dipping into a lovely waltz. The girl continued singing, tip-tapping her way up and down the table, back and forth on the walnut barrier between her and Loki. She knew perfectly well the infuriating creature could sweep her off the table by raising a finger or two, so he was simply drawing the game out before someone else stepped in. Based on the confused, labrador retriever expression on the big blond’s face, it wouldn’t be him. Her lovely voice rose, seeming to swirl in a graceful arc that drove the two men entwined to follow it, holding each other closely, each gaze fixed on the other.

_“Getting to know you_

_Doing it my way_

_But nicely_

_You are precisely_

_My cup of tea…”_

Fiona’s sweet tone drew out, watching Bucky dip a helpless Steve as their lips pressed together.

Her mocking homage to “The King and I” cut off abruptly as Thor’s giant mitt slapped over her mouth, effectively muzzling the girl, even as she squirmed and bit against his grip.

“Lady-” grunting as her sharp little teeth latched on to his thumb, Thor tried again, “-you must stop, this is wrong-” Thor looked uncomfortably as the two refugees from the 1940’s held each other, lips caressing, tongues sliding against strong jaws and stubbled cheeks.

“STOP!”

This warning echoed painfully inside Fiona’s head, the volume rattling and circling her brainpan like a stray bullet.

“Holy Mother of God-” the redhead gasped as she dropped to her knees, hands pressed desperately against her ears, as if that would lower the volume of the command.

The Soldier and Steve broke apart, both panting and backing away from each other in shock. The blond collected himself first, cautiously holding out a hand. "It's nothing, Bucky, just a stupid joke. C'mon, let's just-"

Fiona was suddenly silent, one feral pup sensing another. Bucky stood where he was, hands clenching and releasing and the whole room so quiet everyone could hear the gentle 'whirring' sound of his metal fingers tightening. His greyish-blue eyes had turned black, Fiona noticed uncomfortably, as they turned toward her. She could feel the rage pour from him, almost a visceral flood of fury meant to drown her. 

_"What else should I write_

  _I don't have the right..."_

Fiona's voice shook just slightly as she felt his horror and pain- the Soldier's humiliation.

_"What else should I be_ _All apologies..."_

He stopped then looking from her to the worried face of Steve, and then the door, turning swiftly to leave.

It was the gentle Bruce that turned to her, furious. "Why did you do that, Fiona? He's not your enemy, neither one of them are! Why would you humiliate them like that?"

"What?" The girl shook her head, "They're obviously together, I was just-"

Banner drew in a long breath, holding it for a moment as he rubbed his forehead. "I have to leave before I get any angrier," he mumbled, turning and moving to the door, just behind Rogers.

"They're not together," Natasha said crisply, "they care about each other deeply but even if they were willing to admit they're in love, they're from nearly 70 years ago. Loving a man is the most unthinkable thing they could do, at least in their era. And they're not ready to leave it." She turned on one heel and left the room as well. 

The four remaining men continued to examine Fiona as if she was a bug- Stark looking actually thoughtful, assessing for once. Fury with a cruel glint in his remaining eye. And... Loki. She turned to look at him, and he was expressionless.

"Come, little Monster," Loki finally said, "I will take you to your room." Suddenly tired, Fiona didn't even fight him when he took her arm and began to lead her from the chilly atmosphere.

"I did not say that girl was going anywhere, Mr Friggasson." Fury's voice was ice, swirling with red tones of hate and an unidentified feel- fear? Did she manage to scare this one-eyed motherfucker? Fiona wisely kept silent and kept walking as Loki pulled her to the door. He gave a dry chuckle, turned to where the furious director of S.H.I.E.L.D. glowered.

"Your hearing protection failed, my Cyclopean colleague. I would suggest reconvening another day." Fiona was still shaky, but she couldn't help the spiteful surge of satisfaction she felt at his growl of rage as Stark and Thor attempted to calm the infuriated director.

The door had barely closed behind them when the God's long arms closed around her like bands of steel and Fiona shuddered as he growled against the back of her head. 

"You have been exceptionally naughty, little girl. I fear there will correction. Harsh correction for your ill-favored behavior." Loki chuckled as a sudden yank from an invisible hand threw the girl into a vortex, sending her spinning helplessly. 

"I have such plans for your punishment."

 

 

 

"Getting To Know You," The King and I

"All Apologies," Nirvana

"Kjæledyr" Pet

"дорогая" My dear


	5. The Correction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona receives correction. Which she does not enjoy. At all.
> 
> Trigger warning for dubcon, spanking, orgasm delay. Just skip if this makes you uncomfortable, please. You can catch up next chapter, easy peasy

Fiona’s feet landed abruptly on a 200 year old oriental rug, which she was desperately trying to avoid spraying with vomit.

“Wha- what in the nine hells was _that?”_

She could still feel Loki’s arms around her, the only stable thing in her current universe. Leaning unwillingly against his hard chest Fiona closed her eyes, trying to take a deep breath. His chuckle rattled her head a bit, and she twisted to look up at him angrily.

“That voice that seared through my cerebellum, that was from you, wasn’t it?”

“Of course,” Loki’s tone was indifferent. “The situation was escalating, Kjæledyr, and you were being very naughty, skipping up and down the table like a Vanarian spark beetle. Most distracting."

"I was trying to keep away from you!" Fiona hissed angrily, which backfired as Loki's arms tightened impossibly further, leaving her with a weak puff of air escaping her lungs.

She shivered a little as the dark Prince's cool lips slid up her cheek. "Silly little girl," he chuckled fondly, "as if you could."

Fiona suddenly felt his hands pull down those hideous basketball shorts, quickly stripping her t-shirt and underwear, leaving her bare and hands crossed helplessly over her breasts. "Wait- L-loki- wait!" She clenched her thin arms tighter, trying to keep his mouth from exploring her. Finally, his impatient gaze met hers. He was so beautiful... Fiona thought, still a bit dazed from the abrupt shift in space. "Why..."

"Yes, little Monster?"

"Why me?" She barely got the two words out before his arms tightened convulsively, then loosened as she gave out a strangled gasp. 

Loki ran the calloused tips of his fingers down her cheek. "Because you are mine, Kjæledyr."

Pushing her back on the bed, he was kissing her then, all over her neck, traveling down to her breasts as those terribly competent hands moved lower, stroking along her heaving ribs and soft stomach. "Who- who says I am?"

Her query wasn't as forceful as she'd like, but it was enough to stop Loki's exploration of her. He slid back up her, crawling over the girl and caging her neatly under his longer body, arms bracketing her head. Fiona wiggled under the press of him- feeling the soft wool of his beautiful suit along her skin, the silver buckle of his belt press into her pelvis. 

"Cease squirming, unless you are intending to arouse me." 

To her horror, Fiona could feel him grow harder against her leg until she froze in place, barely breathing. All the details of her dream came flooding back, and she hissed, "That was no dream last night, was it?" The girl groaned as he chuckled, pressing that alarmingly large bulge harder against her. 

"No Kjæledyr, it was not. And may I say how very pleased I am with your responsiveness with your Daddy?" Loki ignored her outrage and bent to kiss the tip of her nose.

"How did you- Why did I- That's- You were trespassing, you know!" Fiona protested, so enraged that she couldn't settle on one thing to be angriest about. To her misery, Loki began laughing again, and her inflamed center was beginning to respond to the pushing of his clothed organ, now ridiculously hard. 

The dark Prince's firm lips moved down the side of her neck, long, slow sucking kisses leaving red marks that stood out harshly against her pale skin. "That is your primary concern? That I entered your room without consent? Then..." the diabolical creature purred, settling himself more comfortably between her legs, "...this means you were not at all averse to my fingers inside your delightful quim?"

Fiona attempted to shove at his well-tailored shoulders. "Geddoff me! I was averse to all of it, you ass!"

Without pausing in his exploration, Loki murmured, "That is two..."

"What?" She growled, writhing like an eel and escape the god's clutches.

"By all means, continue Caoineag, your struggling and petulance only increase the amount of your punishment." Loki grinned against the soft flesh of her breasts as he felt her still. "I have a deft hand, and the physical capacity to use it for days." While he was busy alarming the girl, he was enjoying her breasts. Who knew those vile, voluminous sacks she wore hid such bountiful treasures? 'Really,' he thought while effortlessly keeping her pinned, 'they're exquisite.' Loki placed one huge hand over each, experimentally squeezing and toying with them, enjoying the precision with which they fit into his palm, long fingers holding them firmly. The girl's back arched as his cool mouth moved over one peaked nipple, almost swallowing it before setting it free with a lurid 'pop!' then moving to the other.

Fiona bit back a shriek as he rose over her, pushing her breasts together to greedily suck both nipples into his mouth, his hands tight enough to sting. His thick hair was falling over her skin, heavy silk stroking along her inflamed nerves. She realized that somewhere along the way, she'd removed her fingernails from his shoulders, and they were stroking through the long, ebony strands splayed across her skin. Just then, his emerald gaze fell on her, gleaming with a malicious sort of amusement as he felt her shake underneath him.

Regretfully pulling from those truly delectable mounds of flesh, Loki rose over her, blocking out the light and casting his face into shadow. "Now then... how to help you see the error of your ways, little Monster?" In an instant, Fiona yelped as she found herself over his knee, those long legs spread wide as always and squishing her chest against his firm left thigh. She began flailing with both arms, but he caught them quickly, humming his disapproval as he crossed them at the wrist, pushed up in an uncomfortable position between her shoulder blades. The girl stiffened as she felt a cool puff of air from Loki's mouth, somehow binding her wrists together, even if her frantic, fluttering fingers couldn't find how. His hand slid down the back of Fiona's thighs then, and over her knees as they stiffened straight, leaning her body in a perfect "L" position over his lap.

Arching against the feel of his hands smoothing down her legs and up her back, Fiona tried to curb her rising panic. She'd never been spanked before. Belted, yes. Viciously whipped several times. But never spanked. She could feel Loki's hands slow as her breathing began to stutter.

"Ah. No, sweet Kjæledyr, your correction will not be like the torture that filth rained down on your lovely body. I do this to help you, not terrorize you."

"Are you mad?" Fiona screeched, renewing her struggles. "This isn't HELPING! Let go-" One wide palm came down with a resounding slap across both buttocks.

"AH! You bast-" She was cut off by another slap, laid precisely over the swelling mark of the first. But this one seemed to 'echo' somehow, traveling along her spine, making her feel the blow there, too. 

Loki waiting a moment, stroking over the handprint on her ass and waiting for her breathing to regulate. "If I assured you that this hurt me more than it did you, well- you would know I was lying," he chuckled unrepentantly. "I have been anticipating this delicious moment all day. But if you're a good girl and take this bravely, perhaps you will find the next step more to your liking."

Fiona gathered her senses enough to thrash, trying to free his grip. "I won't like any of it!" she hissed at him, eyes a blazing sapphire as she looked over her shoulder at his beautiful, amused face. "I hate you and I- AH! Will you STOP IT?" She jolted through another thunderous strike across the inside of her thighs, which unfairly resonated back up to her ass, making her feel as if he'd struck her twice in one movement. Loki seemed to slip into a rhythm then, briskly slapping his harsh hand against her bottom but making her feel the blow elsewhere as well. Her back, along her thighs, and to Fiona's alarm, against her breasts, making them swell and feel painfully tender against the soft scratch of his trousers. The horrid spanking continued until the poor girl could feel the sting of it on every part of her body. She was crying freely by then, thick burgundy locks of hair trailing over her wet face and she mindlessly wiped her running nose against his outrageously expensive bespoke suit. Dimly feeling a soothing, cool hand run down the back of her thighs, she could feel her legs loosen and she tried to put them on the floor to rise.

"Shhh... be still."

Loki's beautiful voice warned her, resonant and warm against the sensitive skin of Fiona's ear. She sniffled pitifully and rested a wet, sticky cheek against his hard thigh. The dark Prince was smoothing his chilled palms along her, dousing the fire from her painfully red, stinging skin. "I do this, darling to show you how important self-control is. Only bad girls put on displays like that unfortunate serenade this morning." He paused, enjoying the sound of her hitching breath returning to normal. "Good girls have self-control. They hold back their power. They wait for just. The. Right. Time. To wield it." That lovely, frigid mouth was dropping kisses down her spine and over her flaming ass, moving lower and lower with each word. Fiona moaned in relief as the heat and misery was drawn from her skin with each butterfly movement of his mouth.

Trying to raise her head, Fiona managed a small voice, "Is the correction over now?"

Loki frowned, looking falsely confused. "Over? Oh, Kjæledyr, that was not your punishment. That was simply to prepare you." She yelped loudly as he suddenly flipped her over on to her back and drew her knees wide, settling himself between them. 

"This, sweet Fiona, is the consequence of your naughty behavior today." 

This time, the girl really did let out a scream as he greedily attacked her chilled lips and tongue mauling her swollen folds. 'When did I get so wet?' Fiona managed to wonder before all thought was swept away again. No one had even done... _that_ before. Putting his mouth on her girl bits, licking her like a cat- and oh, did Loki's cold, rough licks feel like a tiger's! His lips tickled along her clitoris as one long finger began circling her opening. The nails on his other hand were running up the thin skin of her inner thighs, just slightly harder than was comfortable, the streaks of fire they left behind contrasting deliciously with the frost of Loki's mouth. Fiona squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face into her pillow and trying to control the rush of blood that was thickening her lips, making her pussy swell.

"Yes darling, like a flower."

"Wh- what?" she managed, her dry mouth making words hard to form. 

"Your tender cunt. It is opening so beautifully for me, the wet lips like flower petals, unfurling, bringing you even more bared to my mouth, my fingers..." The long digit that had been circling her opening suddenly slid inside her, making Fiona shriek, shocked by the sudden fullness, the unexpected intrusion into her secret place that had only felt her fingers, let alone anything else. Loki began humming appreciatively against her clitoris, licking the sensitive top of the bit of flesh trying to protect her most desperately overstimulated bundle. The finger, idly stroking and circling her clutching walls was suddenly joined by a second, and the delicious fullness started shoving the girl to her finish, her body beginning to shake in anticipation until Loki pulled away his mouth, smoothly drawing his fingers from her pussy. 

"Loki? Why did you stop? Why-" The two fingers, slick with her wetness pressed against her lips, making Fiona cringe. 

"Naughty girl. What do you call me?"

Fiona groaned, making a feeble attempt to gather all her scattered brain cells back into order. "Um... Daddy?"

Those two fingers slid down her heaving stomach, leaving a trail of slick behind them as they dipped into her shallowly. Just enough to breach her, then back out again. Slipping inside her further with each slow pass. "Yes, Kjæledyr?"

Her lashes fluttered gratefully to feel that tight coil of heat begin to build in her again. "Daddy? Could you... ohhhh..."

"Use your big girl words, tell Daddy what you need," Loki whispered against her ear, his deep voice turned dark and carnal, heat simmering just under the chill.

Cobalt eyes finally opened to stare into his amused forest ones. "Can I- may I please come, Daddy?" His proud smile  made her shudder, made Fiona feel foolishly grateful for his approval. 

Leaning down to place a kiss on her delicious, full mouth, Loki tenderly said, “No.”

“But… you… I asked, I said 'Daddy'!” she spluttered helplessly, nearly in tears again.

“You did,” allowed her malevolent captor. “But you will not come tonight. And that-” he paused to kiss her again and enjoy the look of horror on her lovely face, “-is your correction.”

Loki was true to his word. Fiona did not come, even while he played with her breasts, even after he bathed her in the shower while keeping two fingers thrust firmly up inside her. Not after slinging a thigh over each shoulder and standing to his full, alarming height and torturing her with his arctic mouth, while Fiona stiffened every muscle, terrified of toppling over from seven feet up against the wall and cracking her head open like an egg. Not even after Loki forced her to straddle him at the dinner table as he hand-fed her, tapping her painfully overstimulated pussy, watching her with interest as her arresting eyes went wide again, feeling a gentle vibration inside her. A phantom toy that cruelly changed speeds and intensity throughout the long and exhausting meal.

Not even after Fiona broke down crying well after midnight, lying against his luxurious linens and covered in sweat again, shaking as he edged her away again.

“Will you listen to your Daddy should these episodes happen again?”

Fiona was exhausted, sobbing too hard to speak but nodding. Her monstrous ‘daddy’ must have brought her to the edge at least 15 times through that excruciatingly long evening, and she wanted to die.

His hand cradled her wet cheek. “You must speak to me, little one.”

Shifting miserably from hip to hip because the slightest pressure on her center made her want to come again, Fiona nodded. “Yes, Daddy. I’ll um, yeah, I’ll listen.”

“There’s Daddy’s good girl,” he soothed, a dark edge of satisfaction under his comfort. “You may rest now.” Wrapping his long arms around her, he settled Fiona comfortably against him and covered her with a silky blanket, stroking his fingers through her hair as she fell asleep.

 

\-------------------------------

 

When the utterly exhausted redhead woke the next day, she was tucked into her own bed at Stark Tower, cleaned up and wearing a soft nightgown. Groggily, her head turned toward the door, where the insistent knocking had woken her.

“Second goddamn day in a row,” Fiona whined, stumbling to the entry. It was Banner, who smiled at the door camera and held up a tray. “Brought you coffee and pastries. And bacon,” he chuckled. “You seem to really like the bacon here. Let me in. After breakfast I want to show you something.”

The door swung open and Fiona was staring at him resentfully. “Yeah Doc, that last surprise put me in a room with that sadistic Director Fuckface while the lot of you put in earplugs.”

Bruce had the grace to look a little ashamed. “I can see where you felt ambushed. But this is a nice surprise, I promise.”

 

“Where are we going?”

Fiona was following- well, limping, rather- after Banner as he led her down a winding hall. They were near the top of Stark’s insanely high tower, and this floor felt empty, even echoing as they walked past door after door.

He smiled back at her, his kind face lit with anticipation. “Oh, here it is…” wrestling with his id badge, he finally lifted it and tapped the lock sensor, nodding when the door obediently slid back. Fiona was still hesitating in the hallway, and he gestured invitingly. “Have a look, Fi, c’mon.”

“Oh… my _children_ …” she sighed rapturously, walking into the vast room stuffed with rare and beautiful instruments of every of kind- 300 year old cellos, an authentic Gibson Les Paul Standard, and carelessly tucked in the corner, a Fazioli Brunei grand piano. Fiona spun until she was dizzy, trying to take in the wealth of the instruments around her. She irrationally wanted to fall to her knees, humbled in a way that made her feel like she was in church. “Holy fuck!” she gasped, “That’s a 1961 Fender Jazz bass!” Stooping, she shook her head, “A 1962.” Looking up at Bruce, still grinning like a fool, the girl asked, “How are we- how are they- holy god this is feckin’ amazing!” Sitting down abruptly, Fiona stared up at the man. “Are we supposed to be in here?”

Seating himself next to her gingerly, the doctor nodded.

“Yes, I got the security code from Tony. This is his collection.”

"Oh," she said distractedly, "Tubby's a musician?" 

Banner shook his head firmly. "No. No, he isn't."

Already on her knees and crawling to the Fender, Fiona moaned like a woman in the throes of orgasm. “This one’s been modified to drop the pickups flush with the wood- gives you a meatier sound. Oh, sweetheart, Mommy loves you,” she crooned tenderly.

Banner shifted, mildly uncomfortable and feeling like he’d walked in on Stark vigorously banging some club girl on the kitchen counter. Which had happened, by the way. More than once.

“Uh, should I leave you two alone?” he joked awkwardly.

Finally gathering her scattered senses, Fiona looked up. “I’m sorry, Doc. This is just… for a musician this is like you finding the cure for cancer, heart disease and Ebola in one fell swoop.”

Straightening his glass, Bruce nodded. “Yeah… that would be pretty... wow... amazing.” He had a feeling the redhead hadn’t heard a word he’d said, because she was back to petting the Fender and crooning baby talk to the instrument. 

Looking around the huge room, he asked, “How many of these can you play, Fi?”

She shrugged, still holding the bass guitar. “Most of ‘em.”

“What?”

Fiona finally looked up from the gleaming white instrument. “It’s part of the curse- I can just… feel them somehow. I can hear the music they want to play and sometimes they show me how to sing what I’m trying to say.”

Banner was silent, watching as she held the bass up to eye level, scanning it for any signs of warping, the shimmering pearl on the surface of the Fender lighting her cheekbones and huge, luminous eyes. Made beautiful by her music.

Finally, Fiona reluctantly put the bass down. “Why are we in here, Doc?”

Rubbing his neck, the man sighed. "First, because I knew it would make you happy, make you feel better about being here." He could see the angry words rising to her lips, but Fiona pressed them together. "And... secondly, I wanted you to know there was a place for you here. Not just as whatever they can 'groom' you to be, which I think is going to take a lot more time and suffering than they're willing to invest." Bruce paused, enjoying her laughter. "Tony's given you permission to be in here any time you want. The code's already programmed into your id badge. And you can take an instrument or two down to your suite if you want to."

She was clutching the guitar to her chest, warily, like someone was about to take it from her. "What's the catch, Bruce? There's always a catch."

Shrugging, Banner hoisted himself from the floor. "No catch. You are officially given free run of this room while you're still here at Stark Tower. Of course how long that is, is up to you. I'm not going to let them imprison you, no matter how much Fury wants to- I never liked that guy. But I'm hoping you'll stay. I think there's a lot we can learn from each other." Heading to the door, he looked over his shoulder. "Besides, Tony is nearly tone-deaf and whatever he plays sounds like a rabid goose mating with a warthog. We might get a decent round of music or two with you here."

Fiona was still frozen in place on the floor, cuddling the Fender. 

A kind smile spread across his tired face. "You want to bring that back to your rooms, kid?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it happens, I have a 1962 Fender Jazz bass. If there were a house fire and I could only carry one thing, choosing between my offspring and my bass... well, I'd make my husband carry the kids.


	6. Dancing On Broken Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona gets shot, witnesses the most beautiful physical phenomenon of her existence and finds herself- more or less- given to Loki. And she can't find it within herself to argue about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fairly mild violence here, and another bout of edging, in case that's a trigger for you. Because Loki can be like that. A total dick.

"How is the lady Fiona coming along? Is there progress?"

Thor came up to stand beside his brother, who was watching the scene through the viewing window with his usual expression of faint amusement, arms crossed over his broad chest. 

"It would depend, I suppose, on what one considers progress," Loki blandly replied, watching Fiona effortlessly hit a high A above high C, making the huge cube of bulletproof glass on the table before her shatter into a thousand jagged shards. Unfortunately, the two scientists in the room with her screamed and clapped their hands over their ears, one falling to his knees.

Thor shifted uneasily. "I had assumed that our host built adequate sound protection for the research staff."

Coughing to hold in his chuckle as Fiona stared at the wailing victims in white coats, brow furrowed, Loki shrugged elegantly. "It would seem the key phrase here is adequate. Stark has thus far been unsuccessful. As you can see." He glanced sideways to see Thor staring at him expectantly. "Yes?"

"The men-" Thor's gigantic mitt waved at the two men who'd removed their headgear as a gloomy Bruce examined them, "shouldn't you go in and heal them?"

A dark brow raised as Loki stared back at him. "I am not a walking Soul Forge, and I do not treat Midgardians," he sneered, "as you can see, Dr. Banner is already attending them."

 

Inside the test room...

"You idiots _told_ me you were safeguarded!"

Fiona angrily put her hands on her hips. She didn't enjoy hurting people, even the ones that hurt her. "Why are they sending you amadán in here if they don't know you'll be safe?"

Banner pushed up his glasses as he glanced at her, "Tony said he was certain-"

Groaning, the girl began to pace, her boots crunching shattered bits of glass underfoot. “An’ you trusted that ADHD pile of testosterone? Really, Doc? You’re supposed to be the smart one here!” Turning her irritated gaze to the groaning researchers, Fiona said, “If you put a washcloth soaked in hot salt water over your ear, you’ll be all better in a couple of hours.” The girl glared directly at the one-way mirrored glass. “An’ I’m not being your lab rat again until you arseholes figure out some better protection than this!”

Stark chose this inopportune moment to step into the observation booth. “What did I miss? Wait- did the kid _do_ that?” He was staring at the remains of the bulletproof glass, sprayed across the floor in tiny chunks.

“Yes, Stark. She did. And because your completely inadequate shielding failed, you did _that._ ” Fury, who'd been sitting quietly in the corner, rose and pointed at the two men, being helped off the floor by co-workers, drops of blood adorning their white coats.

Tony’s jaw dropped. “What the hell? With those headphones? I could have sat next to a cannon being fired in a windtunnel and not heard a thing!”

The observation booth door opened again, and a rumpled and grumpy Banner walked in. "She's refusing to continue with the testing unless she's alone, and frankly I agree with her. Why do you have to have observers in the test field?"

Fury's jaw tightened. He hated being questioned. He _really_ hated being defied. "Because I don't trust her. Because she's greedy little psychopath and I need accurate readings. I need to know exactly what she can do." Rising, he straightened his dark jacket and eyed them all. "And if you can't make her perform here, I'll take her to a S.H.I.E.L.D facility where I will make certain she performs like a trained monkey in the circus if I want her to." His orb swept over all of them, including Loki, who appeared to be smiling faintly. "You find this amusing?"

His target waved an indifferent hand. "The situation? The negligible results? Or the hapless approach to a test subject who is actually quite sensible if she's not manhandled?" Loki smoothed back his already perfectly shaped hair. "All three, really. It is difficult to choose."

Thor and Stark both groaned audibly as Fury took a step towards the dark Prince, who was lounging gracefully against the wall.

“You aren’t useful enough to keep me from sending you back to your Daddy in chains,” he hissed. “Since you find this situation so amusing, I’m putting the girl under your direct care. Which means she is your responsibility. Which means…” here, Fury leaned closer until he felt a sudden chill radiating off his quarry, the air between them turned polar. His eye blinked irritably, feeling like the cold was forming a sheen of ice over the pupil.

Loki’s expression hadn’t changed, but his beautiful features darkened, as if a cloud had passed over them. “I have tolerated the menace of a far more formidable one-eyed oppressor, Director.” Straightening from his slouch, the movement took him nose to nose with Fury, looking down at the man by several inches. The crisp clicks of several guns being removed from their safety position sounded through the room.

A gracious smile spread over Loki’s face, still staring haughtily down at the infuriated S.H.I.E.L.D. director. “But given the paucity of challenge here at Stark Tower, I shall accept stewardship of the Caoineag.”

Fury’s nostrils flared, his molars grinding together. He sensed he’d been outplayed, but he couldn’t see the value of the screeching harpy to Loki, but maybe his failure with the girl meant he could send the arrogant bastard back to his daddy’s dungeon. For good.

“I’ll expect daily reports,” the director finally snapped, "you have two weeks to show me the girl has any value to S.H.I.E.L.D, or I'm taking her."

"Didn't you mean value to international stability, Director Fury?" Steve Rogers had stepped in just in time to hear the last of the showdown between him and the God of Mischief, who was no longer paying any attention.

"Save your heart-warming bullshit for someone who hasn't heard it," Fury said, gesturing to his men to follow as he left, "just make the girl useful."

Emerald gaze traveling to the test room, Loki's lips quirked to see Fiona obliviously skating over the sheen of crushed glass, singing something about "knives in her back." Turning the volume up a bit higher, he chuckled at her choice.

_"I'm gonna dance on broken glass_

_Ey, on broken glass_

_And I'm gonna make that ceiling crash_

_That ceiling crash"_

Fiona twirled dramatically, throwing her arms up.

_"So what? Still got knives in my back_

_So what? So I'm tied to the tracks_

_I'm gonna dance on broken glass_

_And here I go, here I go..."_

Looking up as she heard the sound of clapping, the girl gave an exaggerated curtsey to the tall figure putting his big hands together on the other side of the glass.

"You sure about this, Loki?"

Steve moved to his side, watching as Fiona blew a kiss, tossing it to an imaginary audience as she hollered, "Thank ye, ladies and gentlemen! Be sure to tip yer waitstaff! I'm here all week!"

Loki gave him a bored glance. "Of course. I expect..." Rogers cringed a bit for the girl as a smile stretched to feral proportions over the unsettling Asgardian's face. "I expect her to be quite entertaining."

 

"Aw, damnit! Not  _you_ again? Don't you have a government to topple or some peasants to oppress?" Fiona's face fell as the lab door was unlocked and Loki was standing there, eyeing her with a rather sinister expression. 

"No, Little Monster. I have nothing... better to do than take over your instruction." The Prince deeply enjoyed the look of horror that crossed her lovely face, her pale skin flushing red. He took her arm and began leading the girl briskly towards the elevator. 

"Aren't you going to do that... uh... 'poofy' thing again?" Fiona's voice was sullen, but he was amused to see she followed him instantly, and without a fuss.

He looked down at her. "It is a thing not best used with prying eyes around us."

Walking in as he urged her, Fiona's brow furrowed. "What, your magic? Why?" She felt a chill in the core of her as his exquisite features turned to stone. 

"It displeases the AllFather to discover I have used my Seiðr."

Fiery tempered as she was, the girl knew when to keep her mouth shut. There was a story here, likely one she'd have to drag out one syllable at a time from the god's perfect lips. It was going to be worth it, too- she could just _tell_. So, Fiona surprised Loki by merely nodding demurely and eyeing the numbers as they lit up, taking them higher and higher up the tower.

"Wait- my place is over there-" Fiona was digging in the heels of her scuffed boots, trying to slow down the dark Prince's rapid pace towards his suite on the floor where the Avengers resided.

Dragging her along as if pulling a kitten, Loki shook his head. "No, you will be residing with me. I cannot train you properly, Kjæledyr, unless you are available to me, every moment of the day and night." As he waved his hand again to open the door to his rooms, the prince looked back at her, enjoying Fiona’s utterly appalled expression.

“I don’t- you- I don’t want to be _available_ to you, you megalomaniacal lunatic!” She gasped, one hand still clinging to the moulding around the doorway to keep him from pulling her inside. “You can’t just keep grabbing me and dragging me places and spanking me and… uh.”

Taking advantage of her momentary shock, Loki briskly yanked Fiona into the room and shut the door. She simply stood there, head cocked strangely and clearly thinking furiously, so he leaned back against the door, folding his arms over a broad chest. This should prove to be thoroughly entertaining.

‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’ Fiona was suddenly suffused with rage and nowhere to direct it but upon herself. ‘Why am I letting this gigantic, terrifying creature tell me what to do and sticking his fingers inside me and spanking me?’ Running one hand through her long snarl of hair, she groaned. ‘Seriously, Fi? You could have screamed, you could have told Bruce or Natasha. Shit, you could have howled it to the heavens during that breakfast from hell today! What the actual fuck?’

“Allow me to speculate.” The deep, melodious voice behind made Fiona groan again as Loki began circling her, hands clasped behind his back. “It has finally occurred to you, my lovely Kjæledyr, that at no point did you have to obey me. Yet, you did. You came when I told you to. You did as I ordered. And after your utterly exquisite surrender last night, I have been viewing your reward with some anticipation. So do use that clever side of your brain and behave. I have such a deeply gratifying afternoon planned for you.”

The armor-clad god had finished his circuit and seemed content to simply tower over her, his eyes glowing emerald as he looked her up and down. Fiona wanted to scream. She wanted to sing him right off his balcony and watch as he was turned into paste on the sidewalk below. She wanted to kiss him and put her hand down those tight leather pants and see if he really was as big as that alarmingly large protrusion she'd felt when he was spanking her. And here he was, this impossibly arrogant god, giving her a chance to get a goddamned explanation. Wetting her lips, she asked something entirely different. 

"What happens if that one-eyed fucker takes me to his S.H.I.E.L.D place? I ain't no dancing monkey."

Loki's brow rose. Intriguing. His provocative little pet was asking the right questions. "He will not take you from here, from me. You heard the conversation inside the spelled room, then."

She scoffed, "That wasn't soundproof. And everyone was getting all shouty." Her eyes were darker, like the sea during a storm. "Bruce said that too, that no one would force me. But that's utter shite, isn't it? Even us common folk know what the hell S.H.I.E.L.D is, and I'm guessing it's one step above HYDRA but with a shinier logo. You know, do whatever it takes, for the common good? No matter who you destroy?"

Her heart was beginning to race- she was terrified, Loki could hear it, even though his little monster was keeping an excellent poker face. One long, pale finger reached out and rested against the hollow between her collarbones, before sliding slowly down her chest, between her breasts and ending at her navel. Fiona shuddered- it felt like a bolt of electricity followed the path of his finger, just under her skin growing stronger and pulling a connection between her nipples and her pelvis. She blinked and forced herself to concentrate.

"You can't distract me with... oh, god that's... damnit, Loki! Cut that shite out, I'm trying to ask you some questions here!"

Fiona was wriggling like a worm on a hook as she felt that invisible pull arch her toward the god. His finger was leisurely continuing it's circuit, moving around her generous bosom and enjoying how her anxious breathing was making it heave in such a delightful fashion. "Oh, but little one, we have not yet properly celebrated our new relationship."

She stiffened, trying to figure out which "relationship" Loki was referring to. "You act like the boss of me in every situation, you thinking of a specific one?"

"Daddy."

Fiona craned her head up to look at his beautiful face, intent on the path his finger was making over her nipples. "What?"

Now his eyes, translucent and knowing rose to hers. "I am your daddy, Kjæledyr. That is what you will call me at all times." She was clearly horrified, and Loki enjoyed her discomfort.

"I'm not calling you Daddy in front of those people!" Fiona's lovely voice went high and thin in her agitation, and he chuckled in that infuriating fashion.

"When we are in a position where the others are present, you may call me Sir."

Fiona shook her head. "That's not an improvement."

She gasped a little as his hand suddenly tightened on her breast. It was just shy of being painful, but the girl was embarrassed to feel her nipple stiffen instantly. His head dipped as Loki whispered in her ear. "You do not have a say in this, little one."

Trying to clear her head as the god began pressing a row of kisses down her neck with that wonderfully cool mouth of his, Fiona groaned, "What do you want from me? Why are you doing this? I could hear you manipulate that rat bastard Fury into putting me in your charge."

Loki spun her, too fast to even register what he'd done until she was pressed face-first into the door. He made a hungry-sounding grunt as one big hand slid up her shirt and over her stomach. "At this moment, I want your delicious quim. Heated and wet for me. Are you, Kjæledyr? Are you feeling yourself grow sodden for your Daddy?" 

Fiona pressed her forehead against the door, trying to keep her hips from bucking up against the fingers currently sliding into her undies. Loki’s other hand was grasping a thick chunk of her hair, turning her head to suckle luxuriously on her neck. After the torment he’d put her through the day before, half of her wanted to shove those questing fingers of his up his own ass, but the other half was making desperate noises that would have humiliated her, had she been aware of them.

But Loki was quite aware. The insolent creature was making the prettiest little moans he’d heard in several centuries, rhythmically rocking back against his leather-covered erection, hoping to gain enough friction to come. A warning was ringing faintly in the back of his brain, warning him that her sweating and whimpering, the pleasing way she was arching that delightful ass against his crotch was drawing him alarmingly close to coming in the leather confines of his pants like a lovesick teenager. And this could not happen. Reluctantly withdrawing his fingers from slicking along her opening, he ignored her protesting whine.

“My precious girl, I wish for nothing more than to strip you and lay you before me on my bed like a sacrifice to the gods- which I am, of course. To stroke you and taste you everywhere…” her movements of her ass against his painfully hard cock were getting more desperate, and Loki slammed a hard forearm against her hips, holding his lovely new pet in place. “But this is not the time-” poor Fiona really sounded as if she might start weeping in frustration, and he absently petted and smoothed her silky hair. “I know, you are suffering. But be my good girl for a few hours more and I shall reward you- excessively so- for your obedience. Can you do this for Daddy?” Turning Fiona around on unstable legs, Loki grinned down at her.

He was so beautiful when he smiled, Fiona thought dreamily, so perfect that she almost didn’t want to murder him for causing her yet even more physical misery. Feeling those clever fingers swipe away her tears of frustration, she gathered her senses and scowled at her new daddy. "What now? What else can you do to me?" Fiona was aware that this sounded a bit melodramatic, but she'd like to meet the female who could hold off after hours of edging from the God of Mischief and Lies without their brain leaking out from their ears.

Enjoying her hazy eyes, Loki smiled in a terrible parody of tenderness, lovingly placing a kiss on Fiona's trembling lips. "You have weapons practice with the Soldier, darling. We cannot depend on that lovely voice all the time, now can we?" Seeing her mutinous expression, he soothed, "Think of it as our first- what is it called? Our first date. I shall be there the entire time."

Miserably aware that this snotty Asgardian jerkoff had her pinned to the door with her yoga pants down around her knees, Fiona tried to gather some portion of her dignity. "I thought you were so obsessed with training me yourself?" she just barely erased the sniveling tone from her question. Loki waved one elegant hand as if it was beneath him.

"You must work well with others in the Tower, Kjæledyr. Making amends with the nearly robotic Soldier will go far in repairing your breach."

There were a thousand retorts to this, Fiona knew, nearly swamped in fury and self-pity. But the only thing this tall and beautiful bastard said that made sense was making amends with Captain America's scary boyfriend. Even if he didn't know he was, yet. So she miserably straightened her clothing under Loki's amused regard and nodded her head.

 

"Again."

"Oh, for-! I know how to reassemble my gun! I'm third generation IRA!" Fiona was losing her mind, trying to obey the glowering man beside her. It didn't help that "Bucky-" as he was so fondly called by the rest of the Lycra suited arseholes- was furious with her. Fiona had tried to apologize at the start of the lesson, but his blazing eyes put an end to her attempt as he shoved a Glock in her hand. While she couldn't see her mysterious and infuriating "daddy," Fiona knew he was close and watching intently.

"Did you chamber the first round?" Bucky rubbed his forehead. Teaching marksmanship to this whiny little shit was making his ever-present migraine worse.

Fiona's eyes rolled, a certain way to set the neurons and ganglia of his brain on fire. Irritably taking a wad of gum out of her mouth and sticking it to the pristine white wall, she sneered, "No. As ordered. Sir!" She attempted a half-hearted salute that died off halfway through under his indifferent regard.

"Are you sure. This is the fifth time we have been through this exercise."

The Soldier's blank tone and her excruciating sexual frustration sharpened the girl's pitch to a painfully high whine. "Yes! Bucky!" she popped the "B" with great relish. "I did! Anything else or can we take a break? I mean, I can smell dinner from here and this is going exactly nowhere, so-"

 

The next sound was that of a bullet fired from a handgun.

 

"AAAAAAAAH! You motherfucker! You just shot me! FUUUUU-"

 

The noise sent everyone running to the Avenger's gun range.

"What in the hell happened?" Natasha questioned sternly, staring at a writhing Fiona on the ground, clutching one skinny thigh.

Loki's beautiful face was calm, untroubled. "It seems the Soldier shot Fiona in the leg."

"What?" Bruce gasped, trying to open the door to the gun range, where Bucky was looking down at the screeching girl.

"Halt."

To their general embarrassment, everyone within hearing distance did, looking back at Loki obediently.

“I shall take care of this insignificant mishap.” The dark Prince grandly strolled into the shooting range where his protege was busy rolling around on the mat and wailing. Stopping briefly by the expressionless Bucky, Loki murmured, “I assume you have taken your pound of flesh for the slight to you and Rogers?”

He watched as the man’s stubbled jaw tightened, but Barnes unwillingly nodded his head. “Then, the next time I send the girl down for target practice, I will not find a bullet hole in any of her extremities?” The Soldier’s blank eyes looked from him to the sobbing Fiona. “I believe in- what does the Midgardian Bible call it?- an ‘eye for an eye,’ but should you injure Fiona again, I will tear you apart. Limb from limb. Do you understand?”

For the first time since he’d been “thawed” from HYDRA’s control, Bucky felt his sense of self-preservation spike. The dark-haired monster from another realm was unbeatable. Excluding the Hulk, of course. Accepting this, he gave a jerky nod of agreement.

“Excellent!” Loki clapped his hands together and smiled in a genial “We’re all friends here!” sort of way. Walking over to his thrashing charge, still on the ground and holding on to the sluggishly bleeding hole in her leg, he cleared his throat. “Kjæledyr,” he intoned sternly, “such a fuss. It is one little bullet. I feel certain you have suffered graver damage than this.”

In shock, Fiona actually stopped her howling to stare at him. “He SHOT me! Were you paying any attention at ALL?”

Loki knelt next to her, smoothing one cool palm against the heat and pain in her leg. “Hush now, sweet clíodhna. Daddy will take care of you.” To her self-disgust, the girl stilled, shaking from the aftereffects of her injury, but certain this terrifying and mysterious god would fix her. The green light she’d seen before flowed from his hands and over the wound, stopping the blood flow and knotting the frayed edges of her skin back together under Fiona’s astonished gaze. Within moments, there was no sign of any damage. “Here, darling. A souvenir.”

As her shaking hand took the object from his palm, Fiona was infuriated to see it was the bullet that had wounded her. “This is the worst first date _ever,”_ she sobbed, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks.

“My poor Valkyrie,” soothed Loki. ”I shall make it up to you. Hold on to Daddy.” To no one’s surprise but to all the Avenger’s irritation, the arrogant God of Lies and the banshee disappeared.

 

When Fiona's eyes opened again, it was to utter darkness. Instinctively clutching on to Loki's heavy armor, she gasped, "Loki?"

"I'm here, Kjæledyr. What do you see?"

At first, Fiona couldn't see or feel anything. But then, the rainbow tendrils of light stroked along her frayed optic nerve, gradually growing brighter and finally forming- in a glorious burst of luminous color- a bridge. Looking down, the girl could see she was cradled on Loki's lap as he sat on the the structure, holding her securely in his arms. Fiona's eyes closed for a moment against the onslaught of sensation. Listening carefully, she could feel and hear the harmonics of the gleaming structure. To either side was utter pitch dark, and she shuddered, holding tighter to his shoulders. The blaze of color and music hit Fiona all at once and she gasped, head lolling back bonelessly. Placing one shaky hand on the rippling colors of the bridge beneath them, she could feel tears slip from under her closed lids.

"What is this place?"

"This is the Bifrost, the connection that brings the Nine Realms together."

Fiona hazily remembered the story of the magnificent bridge of matter, controlled by the golden-eyed Heimdall and destroyed by Thor in the first battle between him and his brother: the god holding her now. But her trembling hands were busy stroking carefully along the surface of the Bifrost. Loki watched in sudden fascination as the colors seemed to respond to her- sparking eagerly as her fingers trailed along the precious matter of the bridge. A faint hum began, rising slowly as his banshee continued her movement until everything around them sparked into life.

"Ah... Do you hear it, Loki? Do you?"

If Fiona could have opened her eyes under the glorious onslaught of color and sensation and music, she would have seen a smile on the lips of this dark Prince that could only be characterized as tender.

"I do not, little one. Tell me what you hear."

The tears were streaming down her cheeks now in rivers as Fiona gasped. All around her were the harmonics of birth, of passing, of regeneration. It moved through her blood and rattled down her spine. It was the symphony of life and death, the lyrics of creation. Humming mindlessly, she tried desperately to repeat it, and it was just enough to send a bolt of lightning through the heart of the god who held her, setting his nerves afire as he absorbed a bit of the music Fiona was trying to share. All around them, the rainbow sheen of the Bifrost was joyfully leaping and dancing as trillions- no, an uncountable anthem of voices roared through the structure. 

Taking one weak inhale, Fiona gasped, "It's the music of the universe. Creation... it's singing to me." And Loki merely smiled, rocking her back and forth gently in his arms as his sweet banshee shuddered and wept joyfully, singing along with the aria of the Nine Realms around them.

 

 

amadán - rough translation (at least according to my second cousin in Belfast) of Irish Gaelic for "asshole"

Seiðr - the old Norse way of spelling Seidr

Kjæledyr - Norwegian for "pet"

Caoineag - another name for banshee, there's several variations through Irish and Scottish mythology

"Broken Glass" Rachel Platten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swore to never be one of those irritating writers who gave a laundry list of excuses of why they didn't update. But at this exact moment, my job has me standing in ankle-deep slush and waiting for an event to end. It's been a long five days of hell and promises to be another week of the same. So I apologize to all my beloved friends- I'm sorry I haven't commented on your beautiful updates or thanked you for your comments. I promise to try to redeem myself within a few days. Thank you all for your patience!


	7. Lab Rats, Random Bank Accounts and Glorious Penetration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona is deflowered. In the most delicious possible fashion. Also, she manages to screw over Tony Stark. But not in the good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for very brief mention of past abuse.

 

The exquisite moment on the Bifrost was so overwhelming that Fiona didn't remember returning to Stark Tower, didn't remember her curiously kind captor tucking her into bed, though the sound of Loki's sonorous, deep voice whispering, "Sleep now, sweet Kjæledyr. Dream beautiful dreams, Daddy has you..." sent a quiver up her spine and she sighed, curling luxuriously around his long body.

Waking the next morning, Fiona blearily eyed the huge, floor to ceiling windows in Loki's bedroom. She'd been held in locked rooms for so long that she learned to tell the time by the movement of the sun- one of the little secrets she kept hidden from everyone. "Eleven o'clock-ish?" she yawned, "That's a long night."

"Indeed."

Her spine stiffening, the girl held the sheet to her chest, alarmed to realize that she was quite naked. Head turning, she sought the voice that had just sent her on high alert. "Where are you?"

To Fiona's extreme embarrassment, Loki emerged from the enormous and almost alarmingly decadent bathroom, the sheen of water over his smooth skin and absolutely nothing concealing his nudity from her. "You're awake. Good. I feared I would have to drag you into a cold shower to rouse you. You slept like the dead."

Fiona wanted to snarl something cutting at him, but she merely shifted the sheet to cover more of her generous breasts and looked away. The man was beautiful, there was no other word for it. Certainly, Loki was decisively masculine, with white skin over a thick layer of muscle, and speaking of thick... her alarmed gaze flew down to his pelvis and then flitted frantically away.

"I'm sure I look like the dead right now, too." Fiona tried to force down the squeak in her voice before having the courage to face her dark and demented daddy. "Last night... the Bifrost. How were we allowed to be there? It's... like... new, right? I would have expected at least one of those full-body searches like the TSA does when the metal detector pings."

His dark brows drew together. "Pings?"

"You know..." Fiona was gradually edging to the far side of the bed, trying discreetly to drag the sheet with her as a flimsy sort of protection. "When they scan for weapons before you can get on the plane?" Given his look of confusion mixed with arrogance, she pitied the poor $12 an hour employee who had to tell the god to walk through the full-body scanner. "So, I'm guessing the Avengers don't fly commercial."

She managed to smother a smile at the look of "I'm a god and I don't tolerate mingling with the common people," that curled Loki's expression into disgust. "I do not recognize your direct reference, little one. But I assure you, we travel by private jet or the helicarrier."

The vision of seven-foot-tall Loki in his terrifying bronze and green armor tucked in between two sweaty businessmen in Coach nearly made the girl burst into uproarious laughter. But Fiona sensed attempting to explain the concept to the haughty prince would be more effort than she was prepared to invest. "Of course," she offered with no irony, "but... how were we allowed to sit on the Bifrost? Isn't it like... top secret? Did I do anything to mess it up?"

Looking down into that earnest, concerned face, the Asgardian couldn't help but remember a battle- was it the Vanir? The Muspelheim? At least eight hundred years ago, when ten thousand strong marched side by side into the rift created by Heimdall. The war horses, trained to carry hundreds of pounds of armor. The foot soldiers and the Mages and swordsmen. His brother. Thor's foolish, excited face turning to his as they led their army across to the vast, multicolored stretch of the Bifrost and into a war from which few would return. Thor would always wave that ridiculous weapon, his Mjölnir as he shouted, "To victory, brother! For the glory of Asgard!"

Instead, there was blood. The screams of men and horses, the hissing of shaped curses meant to decimate an entire front line. And mud, by the Nornir, why must every military excursion involve mud? The bodies of their own men stacked for Valhalla via a boat and a torch. Loki's brow furrowed. When had it all become commonplace, the stupid, wasteful blood of the best of Asgard? Pulling in a deep breath, his features assembled back into their expression of mild amusement, looking down into the searching expression of this odd Irish urchin.

"No, Kjæledyr. You could not damage the Bifrost. No matter how you used your considerable talents."

To his interest, Fiona's face sagged in relief. "Oh, thank god! I didn't know if touching it- you know, being an Earther or whatever- would hurt it. Because it sang to me. I would die before hurting it." She smiled up at his perplexed expression. “You dinna believe in preserving the precious? The sacred spaces between the worlds?”

Loki covered his confusion as always, with his go-to defense. “Really,” he sneered, drawing out the word, “and as a mortal, with a life as short as a mayfly’s you think you can affect the Nornir’s tapestry?”

She pursed her lips, eyeing his cold eyes, still so beautifully clear but turned from her now.

“Yes. Of course.” Fiona could see the sneer moving across his thin lips and hurried to finish. “Every life has meaning. The existence of each one of us has impact on the whole. My gran told me that. Oh, and Viktor Frankl,” she chuckled.

Turning his back to her to pull a beautifully tailored suit from his closet, Loki searched his memory. "Frankel. Ah. The concentration camp survivor during one of your world wars- the second, I believe?"

"If there is a meaning of life at all, then there must be a meaning in suffering. Suffering is an ineradicable part of life, even as fate and death. Without suffering, life cannot be complete." Fiona recited the words softly, as if expecting Loki to mock her. Instead, she was surprised to see him whirl on her, actually looking angry rather than contemptuous. 

Yanking his belt closed- she noted Loki apparently did not consider underwear a requirement- he glared at her. "Really? Were these the lies you used to comfort yourself as you were chained to a wall like a beast? Locked in a cell?" Loki felt a twinge as he watched Fiona recoil from him.

"Who told you- how did you know that?" she spat. "Researching what a damaged little girl I am? Do you think I'll curl up and cry from that shite? You think that's the worst you can say to me?" All her tender feelings fostered from the night before burned off like ash in her fury. Quoting Viktor Frankel to some arseholed otherworldly deity who'd just compared humans to insects! Yanking the sheet off the bed, Fiona angrily made for the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it, even knowing Loki could easily remove the entire door with a wave of his oh, so precious hand. Once the door was closed, she hit the wall as hard as she could, relishing in the pain radiating violently up her arm. It felt much better than her humiliation and powerlessness.

Meanwhile, Loki was equally furious, tugging on a finely stitched cotton shirt and tearing it in the process. Murmuring a string of curses under his breath, he pulled another from the closet, donning it more carefully. Of course he'd gathered information on the irritating little bánánach before deciding she was right for his purposes. There were only five of the Avengers gathered in Tony's boardroom two days ago to watch the footage salvaged from the bombed-out location of Marcus Kahn, the monster to hold ownership of Fiona from the age of 16.

\--------------------------------

 Natasha was expressionless, standing in front of Stark's video screen, but there was a tightening around her mouth that hinted at rage. 

Stark looked around. "Where's Banner?"

"We didn't want him here," Natasha shook her head. "It's too easy to get him angry as it is, and this would do it." 

Thor shuffled his feet uncomfortably, looking at Loki, Steve Rogers, the rigid-looking redhead and Tony, who seemed like he might actually be sober. "What is this?" he questioned, "Is it proof of HYDRA's involvement?"

"After a fashion," Loki replied, carefully emotion-free. "Kahn was conducting experiments and sharing data with HYDRA, though they were not apprised of the banshee's existence."

Tony snorted unattractively. "That's certain, or they would have bombed this douche canoe's estate sooner than this. We got there a few hours after they torched the place." Pushing a button, he started the grainy footage. "The kid was kept locked up 24 hours a day- unless Kahn brought her out to perform for his buddies. Or, experiment on her. He killed her father and made Fi call him 'Papa.' They called the experimental section 'The Pit,' so... we figured Barnes shouldn't be here for this either."

The first clear frame showed a man, beautifully dressed, distinguished silver hair and a look of false kindness on his tanned face as he placed his palm on the bowed head of a girl- Loki's eyes narrowed- Fiona, of course. She was dressed in a ragged hospital gown, burgundy hair in snarls and clearly pleading with the man. Kahn shook his head, and the girl began screaming as two brutish-looking guards hauled her up under her armpits, beginning to drag her down the concrete corridor. Fiona's screams were loud enough to be heard clearly on the surveillance footage. One word, over and over.

"PAPA!" She was looking back desperately, digging in the heels of her bare feet on the cement floor and scraping them bloody. 

"PAPA!" The men were dragging her to a set of double doors, made of steel and reinforced with a series of electronic and metal safeguards. Clearly, whoever or whatever went in didn't come back out, at least not unchanged.

PAPA! PAPA! PAPA!" Her screams were so terrified it seemed the girl couldn't shape another word to add to her pleading,  and she began bucking and flailing so violently against the men that two more guards stepped up from their posts and seized her thrashing legs. With a final wail of horror, Fiona was hauled through the doors and they shut, locks engaging loudly. Her begging cut off instantly as the steel panels closed, leaving nothing but dead silence, until the silver-haired man brushed off his hands where he'd touched her with a handkerchief before walking away.

It had been a long time since Loki had allowed himself to think of the madness that came from the hand of Thanos. The agony. The never-ending suffering. Watching his Clíodhna's panic and terror sent the memories back in a visceral sweep that felt like the fires from the hand of the Titan were searing over his blue skin again- scorching him into ash, only to rebuild his burned and broken body to begin again as he begged Thanos to kill him. The footage shorted out before they could gain access to any video from 'The Pit,' but the dark Prince was secretly grateful. He already knew what she would be feeling. What they would be doing to her.

\--------------------------------

Returning to the present and shaking his head, Loki pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. There was... nothing to say to the girl now. He would return when his Kjæledyr was calmer, and they would speak. Sweeping forcefully from his suite, Loki barely shut the front door as Fiona opened the bathroom's. Sagging in relief when she found herself alone, the girl clenched her jaw.

"As if they knew anything about me," she gritted out, "anything at all."

Feeling like she'd rather throw herself off the balcony of the 95th floor, rather than head to the communal kitchen and face those idiots, Fiona dug through a well-stocked refrigerator in that Asgardian son of a bitch's kitchen- looking like he'd never touched any of it, of course- and forced down a protein drink. She marched over to her suite in Loki's bathrobe to fetch some clothes, only to discover to her fury that all her personal belongings- well, whatever Natasha had provided for her was gone. Stomping back to that smug alien bastard's room, she found better-fitting clothing in her size hanging neatly in the vast walk-in closet. Well-fitted, as if tailored for her. And mostly tight. Angrily pulling on some leggings and the biggest t-shirt she could find, Fiona went out to meet her fate.

"Okay, so this time Banshee, we want you to see if you can compel the test subjects to release the bank codes- do you sing that one out of them, just have a little one to one, what's your game plan? What makes those suckers give it up?" Even Tony, who was usually notoriously and blissfully unaware of any emotional or social influence in the room, knew something was off. The usually infuriated- and infuriating- Irish girl was dead silent. She stared at him with those pale sapphire eyes, no expression and just waiting for him to finish. Stark scratched the back of his neck, tapped his foot a little and cleared his throat. Fiona continued to watch him, unblinking.

"WHAT?" he finally bellowed, "What? And don't say 'nothing,' I hate it when women say that!"

Finally, she answered. "Fiona."

"Huh?" Tony was wishing he'd brought a cocktail to this particular exercise in futility.

"My name is Fiona," she reminded him. "I'm no fuckin' superhero." Turning abruptly, she walked over to the three obviously terrified accountants he'd pulled from his finance division. They didn't have high level Stark banking codes, but at least control over accounts stuffed with enough money that their careers depended on keeping the accounts secure. All three men in their nice blue suits stared at her. 

"They, uh- Mr Stark told us there would be no, uh, unpleasantness," one finally blurted out, his red face making Fi wonder how close he was to cardiac arrest.

Running one cool hand along his sweating forehead, she crooned, "There's nothing to fear, you silly man. I've been told I have a pretty singing voice. Would you like to hear it?" 

"Well, sure..." the man smiled hopefully, feeling surprisingly more at ease. Surprisingly.

Looking the hapless employees over, the redhead was suddenly struck with fury, that arsehole Stark never told these men what they were in for. Never gave them warning. She wondered how long they'd worked for him. Were they loyal? Proud to be contributing to his dickhead conglomerate? Fixing the oblivious idiot with a slitted glare, Fiona began.

 _"Lights, camera, silence on the set_  
_Tape rolling, 3-2-1 action_  
_Welcome to the Church of Suicidal_  
_We'll have a sermon and a wonderful recital_  
_But before we go on there's something I must mention_  
_An important message I must bring to your attention_  
_I was in meditation and prayer last night_  
_I was awakened by a shining bright light_  
_Overhead a glorious spirit, he gave me a message and you all need to hear it_  
_"Give me your money, " that's what he said_  
_He said to "Give me your money"_  
_Now if you can only send a dollar or two_  
_There ain't a hell of a lot I can promise to you_  
_But if you wants to see heaven's door_  
_Make out a check for five hundreds or more_  
_"Give me your money", do you hear what I said?_  
_"Give me your money"_

Fiona was twirling madly around the room like a furious, deranged ballerina, her voice soaring through the room and sending the power of the angry lyrics swirling seductively up and down the nervous system of those watching her, all mildly stunned.

_"Now give me some bass, um yea that's how he like it_  
_Now let's have some silence, for all you sinners_  
_Now give me more bass, yea that was funky_  
_Now take them on home Brother Stark, give me your money_  
_Here comes another con hiding behind a collar_  
_His only God is the almighty dollar_  
_He ain't no prophet, he ain't no healer_  
_He's just a two bit goddamn money stealer_  
_Give me your money_  
_Give it, you got to send it_  
_Give me your money_  
_You hear what I'm saying?_  
_You got to give it, give it up_  
_Give me your money..."_

Fiona was just finishing another twirl and wondering if she should move into the third verse when she looked over at Stark, who was frantically drawing something on the window with a Sharpie pen. Squinting, she could see a long column of numbers. His face was set, intent on his work and with a desperation to finish quickly. On her side of the glass, her trio of innocent lab rats were doing the same thing, rapidly tapping in a series of numbers, then holding up their iPads with big smiles, as if waiting for praise from a teacher. Upon closer examination, the redhead found each one contained the blinking green release statements from a Stark bank account. 

"Thank you, gentlemen," Fiona said, smiling warmly upon each of them. "You did so wonderfully, you're spectacular employees. I'm sure-" her guilt and her disgust with their careless CEO rose up in her throat, threatening to choke her. "I'm sure Mr. Stark is very proud of you."

Feeling a little sick, she hummed for a moment to get the right key, and leaned forward, placing her hands on the table, singing so softly that only the men in their blue suits could hear her, even with the excellent sound system in the room. 

_"So, forget about the money,_ _forget about yourself_

_And forget about the calculated risk_ _It never ends well._

_So, forget about the money,_   _forget about yourself_

_Forget about the money,_ _forget about yourself..."_

By then end, Stark's accountants were all smiling, relaxed and quite happy to enjoy a little afternoon entertainment from this strange Irish girl in the middle of a work day. After all, the boss was paying for it, right? They smiled at each other, not even noticing that Fiona was rapidly erasing their work from their iPads and deleting the history. 

"Thank you so much, gentlemen. I really appreciate you taking a moment to let me practice my new song with you." They were all beaming at her, the girl thought, forcing herself to keep the smile pasted on her face. Like it had been a lovely afternoon break. To be fair, she'd tried to push as much relaxation and satisfaction of a job well done as she could into her singing, not wanting these middle corporate clones to suffer from her experimentation. Fiona had always tried to do that, every time she was forced to toy with an innocent. As the happy accountants left the room, she sat down suddenly, the nausea she'd been forcing down about to come surging back up.

And of course, it would have to be him. 

"Kjæledyr." Loki's exquisite voice was deep with disapproval. "Cease toying with Stark at once."

To be perfectly honest, Fiona had forgotten about the arsehole billionaire, and when her gaze returned to his desperate notations on the observation window, she sighed. 

_"There’s nothing to see here_  
_There’s nothing to see here_  
_You don’t need to live like you got something to hide_  
_Stand up straight and look em all in the eye_  
_Look them straight in the eye_  
_You might wear a crown, you might wear a suit_  
_You might even sound like the echoes of truth_  
_You don’t have to live like you’ve got something to hide_  
_You don’t have to live all them lies_  
_Open your eyes"_

Stark's frenzied scribbling slowed, then halted. He carefully put the lid back on the pen, set it down and looked around in a confused and self-conscious way. "Soooo... how'd it go?" Looking at the pen marks smearing the glass in front of him, he asked, "Is that... that's all 1,302 of my offshore accounts, isn't it?"

Fiona's lips pressed furiously together to see the eyes of Natasha, Banner and Steve look at her with a new caution, and maybe a bit of condemnation.

Throwing up her arms, she hissed a line from one of her favorite films, even if she wasn't wearing armor. "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?" Rubbing her suddenly throbbing forehead, Fiona looked away. They'd never get it. They'd keep pushing and pushing her. And _she_ was the monster. The door opened, but she was too ill to raise her head. So when beautifully sewn black crocodile leather loafers paused in front of her, Fiona's response was immediate.

"Did she just puke on Reindeer Games' shoes?" Tony was still coming out of his daze but alert enough to see the appalling moment in the control room.

Natasha pressed her fist to her mouth, trying desperately not to laugh. "Yes. It seems she has."

 

________________________

 

Loki had done that fancy hand-swiping thing, so her embarrassing regurgitation disappeared, but Fiona still apologized. "I'm sorry about upchucking on your fancy shoes."

"My custom-made Stefano Ricci's?" Loki's voice was calm, but she could hear the edge of amusement there. "They do reek of sick, so I shall hide them somewhere in Stark's office. Perhaps in the ceiling panels over his desk." Inside of course, his soul was howling over the desecration of those butter-soft loafers,  their tragic end. Such a pity.

Fiona laughed, but the end part came out more as a sob, so she shut up. Surprisingly, she felt the cool grip of Loki's hands on hers as he gracefully knelt in front of her.

"Look at me, little one."

Unwillingly, her eyes rose to his, then dropped again. His eyes were penetrating, lucid, a shimmering deep pond that made her uncomfortable. Loki already made her feel stripped bare, and it felt like he could see anything inside her- anything he liked if she met his gaze long enough.

"You did nothing wrong. I was not there to protect you. Stark's stupidity is not your fault." Now her astonished scrutiny was back.

"I thought you'd-" Fiona's lips pressed together angrily, "-you'd be on their side. Angry at me."

Loki chuckled darkly, releasing one hand to run his through her long curls. "No, Kjæledyr. We were not displeased with you. Everyone was outraged at Stark's idiocy by forcing you to experiment on his employees. It is inexcusable. And yet, you still attempted to be cautious, erasing their memory of an action that would cause them great distress. And you are not to blame for that fool being caught up in your trancework. And even with him, you refused to take advantage." Running long fingers through the tangles in her hair, Loki tugged gently. "Dr. Banner was most displeased, lecturing us on correct experiment protocol and the inexcusable sloppiness and potential danger to both test subjects, and to you."

Fiona smiled a little, her heart warmed a bit that at least Banner knew what they'd been doing was complete bullshite. 

"There is an agreement to not conduct any further experimentation with my explicit approval," here, his expression turned cold, "attempting to manipulate you without my presence is unforgivable. Nor without your agreement and precise scientific measures. I should have been there to protect you." He chuckled again to see the girl's look of shock. "You are under my care, darling. I will never allow such a thing to happen again."

The words flew out before she could stop them. "Why would you care?" Fiona blurted, "As long as you get what you want, why does it matter what happens to me?"

She'd studied Loki's face many times, when she thought he wasn't looking. Other than the faintly amused expression traditionally gracing his features, she'd never really seen anything else, other than cold disapproval and the occasional, terrifying flash of fury. But the look he wore now looked something closer to... remorse?

"Because you are under my care, Kjæledyr. Because as your daddy it is my right to nurture you and guide you. And today you received neither."

Fiona sagged against his arms a bit, tired from the ugly afternoon and happy to have a moment where someone wasn't angry at her. As his pale hands began undressing her, she stiffened again. "What are you doing? And where did my clothes go? And-"

His mouth descended on hers, and it was all the girl could do to not moan against his lips. Loki might be a supremely arrogant ass, but he was a spectacularly beautiful one, with a kiss that tended to make her thoughts fly away like frightened birds. "Shhhh..." Long fingers cradled her cheek. "Daddy is going to bathe you, and feed you. And then..."

She drew away for a moment, alarmed at the gleam in those eyes, green like the deepest part of the forest. "I will make you mine. In every way."

 

Damn him, he was as good as his word, Fiona thought, trying not to yowl like a feral cat as Loki gently undressed her, running a soft sponge along her long arms and legs, soothing her skin with a heavenly smelling body wash and then placing her on his suited lap to dry her with another one of those sinfully thick towels. She was a little surprised but grateful as the dark Prince dressed her in a silk nightgown, fearing he'd try to keep her in the nude. There were scars... everywhere, and while she felt a cool finger stroke along one from time to time, he said nothing, merely helping her dress and placing her on his lap to hand-feed her. 

"This will surprise you," she attempted, trying to eel her way free from his grasp, "but even one from my impoverished background knows how to use utensils to feed myself."

He merely chuckled in that soothing, infuriating and arousing way, bringing another savory bite to her lips. "It does not surprise me, darling. But it does give me great pleasure to care for you. Now, be a good girl and let Daddy feed you." Groaning internally, Fiona reluctantly relaxed against his hard chest and opened her mouth again. When the meal was finished Loki produced a glass of wonderful whiskey, tilting it skillfully to her lips. One sip, and the redhead cringed to hear the shamelessly wanton moan that sprang from her lips.

"What is _that?"_

Lifting the heavy crystal glass again, the god smiled at her devilishly. "Redbreast 12 Year. The finest whiskey ever produced."

Taking another mouthful, Fiona groaned appreciatively. "I'm a Jameson girl, but _this_... Oh, my _gawd_..." Loki's chest shook against her as he brought the drink to her lips again, but it was an amused laugh, rather than an unkind one, one at her expense. Halfway through the second glass, poured generously by her mysterious and confusingly kind daddy, Fiona finally rested her head against his broad shoulder. "This is so nice," she admitted, enjoying the warmth of the whiskey inside her stomach and the flames from the main room's fireplace that had suddenly sprung up without the aid of matches. It was then that Loki's long fingers slid gracefully into her hair again, gently smoothing out the knots and scratching along her scalp.

"You are still a maiden." Fiona stiffened at his calm tone. "How can this be?"

"How did you...?" Almost turning back to the man holding her, she sighed, slumping back and refusing to look at him. Laughing cynically, Fiona took the glass from Loki and gulped down the last of the Redbreast. While he inwardly recoiled at the shocking lack of respect for such a magnificent beverage, he said nothing. "Papa- ugh-" she shuddered, then continued on, "Kahn had this superstition that my curse relied on my being... intact." Loki felt her skinny back shake against him, but he said nothing, continuing the soothing stroke through her thick hair. "So... no. He never, uh, deflowered me," Fiona said in disgust, "but that was the only thing he didn't do to me. I'm no maiden." she finished bitterly, looking hopefully for the bottle of whiskey.

A tap from Loki's finger filled the glass halfway, even with three fresh ice cubes. "Now that," the redhead's tone was sarcastic, "is actually a useful talent."

"Then..." Loki's tone was thoughtful, "then you are untouched."

"Did ya not hear me?" She asked crossly, "I'm no pure thing." Fiona gasped as she was abruptly lifted, then turned to straddle the god, facing him. And he did it so gracefully that not a single drop of Redbreast was wasted.

Two firm fingers took her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You gave nothing willingly. You are untouched, darling. Unawakened. Selfishly, I am pleased to be the one to change this for you." It felt like a cold flush against her skin, the draw of blood down from her pale complexion. Looking down at his graceful fingers, Fiona realized how well they matched each other. He tilted her chin higher, forcing her eyes to his. "Will you let Daddy take care of you? Will you trust me to remove those ugly images and replace them with our own?"

Fiona thoughtfully chewed her full lower lip, looking at this ridiculously beautiful man. "I'm gonna suck at this," she finally ventured honestly. "I'll probably be complete shite. Nothing ever happened that I wanted."

Leaning in, Loki placed a kiss of infinite gentleness on that anxiously gnawed-on mouth. "I intend to prove you wrong, Kjæledyr."

It was so completely different than anything she'd ever experienced, Fiona marveled, trying to concentrate through the rose-colored haze that seemed to soften all her senses. Loki's mouth traveled over every inch of skin on her body, whispering compliments and deliciously poetic snatches of verse praising her smooth skin, her silky hair and voluptuous breasts. And when he began slinking down her belly, knowing eyes fixed on hers, the girl finally stopped him by pulling anxiously on his ebony strands spread across her chest.

“Wait- you don’t have to, you know, you don’t have to do that.”

One elegant black brow rose as Loki kept his mouth where it was. Fiona shuddered as his lips moved against her as he spoke.

“I do not have to do… what, darling?”

“You know…” she whined, trying to dislodge him by shifting her hips. This ended quickly as a muscled forearm slammed down over her hips, holding her lower parts still for him.

Loki finally rose slowly over her, then rolled them both, relaxing below her and looking up with a devilish glint. “You are mine to command, Kjæledyr. So if I wish you to crawl up here and place that delicious quim on my face and ride me until you make a filthy, sweet mess, you would, wouldn't you?"

Her face went from pale to flaming red within seconds. “What?"

"You would do that for me, darling. You would be my good girl and give me what I desire?"

“I don’t… you know I’m not coordinated!” Fiona waved her hand over her painfully hot skin. “I’ll do something terrible and… you know… like, smother you or something!”

Loki’s hands were idly smoothing along her hips, listening to her try to come up with additional excuses as he smiled indulgently. Finally, Fiona’s protests ended with a squeal as those strong hands simply lifted her over his face… and dropped her.

“OH! Omigod sweet baby Jesus in the manger what are you DOING to me?”

His laughter simply vibrated tantalizingly against her wildly sensitive lower half, making her moan again. His tongue was... knowing. Wicked. Talented in diving into secret places and teasing along sensitive nerve endings. Fiona was embarrassed to feel herself get so wet, feeling that he must be disgusted with her. She was shocked instead when Loki groaned, gripping the soft globes of her ass tightly, using his grip to bring her center against his mouth over and over. And by the time those chilly lips fastened on to her clit and began sucking the sensitive bit of flesh, the girl let out a shriek and nearly flopped sideways, tightening her hold on the bed's headboard, shuddering as she felt her first orgasm crash over her, knocking her back over and over as her talented daddy drew another from her before letting her clit slip from his mouth.

He grinned and kissed her pussy again before rolling over her, sliding upwards to do the same thing to her mouth as Fiona felt herself melt against him. He was so big, cool against her hot skin and just perfect, and she instinctively wound her leg around his hip and pressed herself against him as the kiss deepened.

"There's my good girl," Loki praised, his voice so deliciously deep and guttural. "Do you think, darling, that you could be brave while I fuck all those pretty noises out of you?" Fiona felt all the air rush from her lungs in an embarrassing squeak.

"I uh... I don't know?" she finally answered, not sure what she was capable of doing. This was so far out of her range of experience and so very wonderfully different than the ugly memories of the past.

Loki was placing a series of bites and sucking marks down the cord pulsing in her long neck, and he lifted his head to look into her eyes. "Because I wish for you to be as loud as you like. In fact, I demand it from you." He lifted his big body over hers, and for a moment, Fiona could feel those horrible, dirty memories begin rushing to the forefront of her thoughts, until she felt his cool mouth soothe the heated skin of her forehead. "Those thoughts will not bother you again. They are of no consequence, little one. They have nothing to do with you, with what happens in our bed. Do you understand?"

To her relief, she could feel the hideous memories dissipate, and Fiona wound her arms around his muscled shoulders more tightly.

Then his eyes locked with hers and he started moving, painstakingly slowly to keep himself under control and make sure he didn't hurt her. While she'd caught a glimpse of his cock that morning, even Fiona's limited experience told her the... full-sized version would be unmanageable. But again Loki seemed to read her mind, and he paused with the head of his cock at the entrance of her channel. She moaned, feeling the first stretch and sting of him begin to push up inside her.

"Such a good girl..." Loki's sonorous voice was a bit strained, and she could tell the self-control he was using to not simply shove himself inside her and take her as he wanted, brutally, hard, thrusting deeper than she thought a man could go inside her. But he stopped. "Little one?" He waited till Fiona looked up at him, eyes wide and breathing a little shallow. "Slow down, shhh... I can already hear all those sweet whimpers and moans. but I cannot move inside you until you tell me you are ready. Do you understand?"

Fiona tried to keep from digging her fingernails into the smooth skin on his back. "I... uh..."

Loki surprisingly, didn't seem irritable or impatient, the broad head of his cock still nestled at the beginning of her channel. Running the tip of his tongue along her lips, he smiled a bit at her helpless shiver. "Tell Daddy when you are ready. Are you prepared for my cock?"

A little strangled noise came from her lips- his dirty talk should disgust her, but instead it was wildly arousing and made her lift her hips shyly in invitation. 

His sharp intake of breath was gratifying, but the stubborn Asgardian ass refused to move. "You must say the words, lovely. You must tell me."

Taking a deep breath, Fiona looked into his eyes, hers the glorious, clear color of a tide pool at the ocean. "Yes, Daddy. I would like it if you... Could you um, yes."

His thin lips spread into a smile, but he began moving those sinfully flexible hips again. It began to sting and stretch again, escalating in hurt and intensity as Loki kept pushing that huge, hard part of him inside her.

"You're doing so well, darling," Loki murmured in her ear, in between kissing and marking her neck. "So very well for me. My good girl."

Eyes closing, Fiona tried to keep in her desperate little moans by digging her nails into the back of his neck and his arm. She hadn't even realized she was holding it in a death grip until her nails sunk in deep enough to draw blood. Loki hissed in reply, but not from pain.

"Harder," he purred, and Fiona gave up any pretense of self-control as she did as she was told. She slid her fingers into his luxuriously thick black hair, giving it a good yank that prompted Loki to let out a primal growl and then shove her back down on the bed. It seemed his chilly self-control was gone, and the dark, narrowed eyes staring down at her widened ones let Fiona know that. She could feel the muscles in his firm ass flex as Loki drove harder inside her, giving up his slow, measured strokes meant to remove her virginity carefully and instead plunged greedily inside her, pushing up and circling his hips just so on every stroke. It still burned, the feel of his plunging shaft still stretching the soft parts of her unused to such harsh treatment. And she loved it. Loved it- and Loki didn't seem to mind that she was clawing mindlessly against his back, feeling the incredible flex and pull of the muscles there as he thrust harder and harder inside her until he felt the tell-tale quivering inside her, chuckling darkly and speeding up again. Pulling her hands- and fingernails- free of his back, Loki spread her fingers between his and locked their hands together, giving her something to hold on to.

"Now, lovely," he growled, teeth gritted and showing the effort it was taking to hold back. "When Daddy gives you an orgasm, you must ask for it first. Are you ready?"

"I-" Fiona sucked in a desperate breath, the size of him inside her! Pushing the soft walls of her apart to make room for his thick, driving shaft that seemed to remove every thought in her head aside from the sensation of being filled so completely, nearly speared upon him.

"You can do this," Loki soothed, pushing harder, angling his hips just a fraction lower and hitting a whole new symphony of sensation for her. "Tell Daddy when."

"God..." groaned Fiona, barely able to think, almost afraid of the wildfire that was beginning to burn up her spine. "I think- could I? We should canIcomeDaddyoh, god please!"

And with a final, brutal snap of those sinuous hips, Loki gritted out, "You may. Sing for me, Banshee."

With a shocked shriek and gripping him hard inside her, Fiona did as she was told.

 

"Give me your money" paraphrased from the [Suicidal Tendencies](https://www.google.com/search?q=Suicidal+Tendencies&stick=H4sIAAAAAAAAAONgVuLSz9U3MMxKrigvAAA2uWyNDgAAAA&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwin25vY2_TYAhUQ4mMKHZzZD_8QMQgsMAA)

(If you’ve never heard this lovely song, it has one of the most spectacular basslines I’ve ever had the pleasure to (clumsily) play.)

"Love is for the rich," by Surrogate

"Nothing to see here," The Band of Heathens


	8. Like An Angry Ginger Bloodhound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona is forced to acclimate to life inside the Tower. Not always successfully.

 

While Loki used his rather spectacular self-control to make certain Fiona's first time was perfection, and at her pace, he was less considerate about the second and third time that night. This ridiculous little mortal... he craved her in a way that made him uncertain. The feel of her, the taste, the unbearable warmth inside her and how she clutched him in that velvety grip. Her uninhibited and innocent reactions- so delicious. And now as the morning light crept over the bed, illuminating her pale face, relaxed in sleep and so lovely, all he could do was slide down her body to pull her legs over his shoulders as he began to toy with her pussy. 

She was having another dream, it had to be, Fiona drearily thought, because her body wasn't capable of one more orgasm. She felt as if her alarmingly talented Daddy had wrung her inside out, like a wet towel. And yet... oh, _god_... her hips weren't doing that thing again? Finally managing to drag her eyes open, Fiona looked down to see Loki's hair spilled over her stomach, his beautiful, malevolent emerald gaze intent on hers as he feasted on her center. Weakly placing one hand on the thick silk of his hair, the girl tried to decide if she was attempting to push his head away or draw it closer. 

"Please Daddy," she groaned, "I can't feel my legs any more."

"Hmmmm..." Loki pensively hummed into the wet velvet of her pussy, "do you feel this?" As his two long fingers slid back inside her and he suckled on her still-swollen clitoris, Fiona's breath left her in a rush. She never quite got it back after the first orgasm at Loki's hand, and then the second clutching his cock inside her again. Panting with her legs wrapped around him and her hands fisted in her own hair to keep from scoring her nails down his back, the girl could feel the delicious coolness of his finish flow through her. The feel of it roused something alarming in her mind and she pushed apprehensively at his shoulder.

"Wait! Loki- uh, Daddy, I'm not on anything!"

His dark head lifted as he looked down at her alarmed face. "What are you referring to, little one?"

The horrifying image of being nine months pregnant from this god's super-sperm and trying to waddle away from yet another dangerous situation sent Fiona to wiggling madly, trying to dislodge his cock from her. "The pill! I'm not on the pill or any contraception and you've nearly sexed me blind, deaf and dumb! I need to go a pharmacy and get a morning-after pill, maybe Bruce could prescribe-" Her anxious monologue was cut off by Loki's deeply unhelpful laughter, and he caged her in with his long arms and legs. 

"Darling. As was made quite clear to you at our first meeting, I am a God. You do not think I would care for the frailties of your human body?" His voice was rich and warm, pouring over her prickly skin and soothing Fiona's spiking nerves. 

"Getting knocked up isn't a frailty," she said obstinately, "it's one of the 'blessings' of bein' a woman."

Loki's black brow rose at the girl's sarcasm as he gracefully pulled himself from her, arranging her legs more comfortably around his hips. Now that the glow of her latest orgasm had faded, Fiona felt awkward and deeply uncomfortable under his gaze. This lying about... naked... with his come trickling from her suddenly brought home the weight of her current situation. "You seem quite disgusted with the threat of your fertility, Kjæledyr. Have you never considered children?" Her horrified expression was his answer. Idly stroking the calloused tips of his fingers over Fiona's pink nipples, Loki watched her. "Ah. You fear it."

Fiona's eyes jerked back to his, startled. "How do you know that?" she challenged, uncomfortable with how much this blasted Asgardian interloper seemed to see in her. She felt a strange trickle of warmth slide between her breasts, like molten honey. His dark head bent and he blew softly on her skin where his fingers had been.

"Ahhhh..." she moaned, head dropping back. "How do you DO these things?" She could feel Loki's lips move on her skin, tracing something with lips and tongue like an arcane language long lost from the world. Based on the liquid honey feeling that followed, Fiona suspected it was. 

"It is called a Seiðr, Kjæledyr. I cannot read your mind- yet." His beautiful face creased into a scowl for a moment before smoothing again, and she had the strongest impression that this inability infuriated him. "But it traces along your skin, your nerves. It tells me how you're feeling, even when you attempt to hide from me."

The lovely warmth faded then and Fiona felt cold. "I do fear it. Kahn always threatened to breed me, make babies he could experiment on. See if he could make a stronger Caoineag than me. One he could... control better." She shuddered before she could stop herself. "They were always taking samples from me- DNA to mix and match." Loki had been silent during her brittle memories, idly stroking along her skin. 

He finally spoke. "Repellent. If this man is not dead, I shall take great pleasure in finding him and attending to the task." His avaricious smile told Fiona he was rather looking forward to it. Loki's keen gaze went back to her. "These DNA tests. There was nothing in the data taken from Kahn's compound regarding such a thing."

She tried to wiggle free, and this time he allowed it. Sitting up with her back to him, Fiona said, "I couldn't stop them from taking parts of me. But I could... nullify those bits before they could be used." Standing and wrapping the sheet around her, she edged towards the bathroom as if expecting Loki to grab the fabric back. But he'd put his hands behind his head, watching her retreat with even more questions running through his nimble mind.

 

The next several days in Stark Tower developed a pattern. Fiona would wake usually to find Loki's mouth or cock engaged with her lower half. He would force her to eat a large amount of disgustingly healthy food items. Then there would be... training. God, she _hated_ training. Self-defense with Natasha. Weaponry with Bucky, who taught her to wire a bomb- though her family's IRA history made her a natural- fire a gun, hotwire a car and various other morally dubious skills. And the most exhausting of course, was "enhancing" her "gift" with her ruthless and implacable daddy. To make matters worse, she was then required to socialize with the other members of the Tower. A relentlessly mocking Stark. A reserved Steve. An apprehensive but supportive Bruce. And the well-meaning but vastly annoying efforts from the God of Thunder to bond with his brother's new acquisition.

"I must tell you, Lady Fiona, that I have not seen my brother at such peace since we were children."

Half nodding off after an exhausting afternoon of Natasha kicking her ass under the guise of "sparring," Fiona raised her drooping head. "Huh?"

Thor was leaning into her space, smiling and showing too many teeth. "My brother, Lady. He seems... happier."

Brows drawn together, Fiona looked over at Loki, exquisitely clad in a coal black Ermenegildo Zegna, listening to Bruce discuss the results of another of their tests in the astrophysics region with a look of barely contained boredom. "Really?" she asked dubiously, "He looks... uh... less enthusiastic than this usually?"

Swallowing half his drink with a gulp, Thor chuckled fondly. "Indeed, Lady." He sobered slightly, but carried on. "When our Father sent him here to atone for... for what he did. I did not think he would endure it. I feared..."

Fiona was paying careful attention now. She knew about the Battle of New York, of course, and the episode in Germany. She'd even watched a video of Loki's immortal "You will kneel!" speech with a certain twinge in her lady bits. But, what had happened to her darkly exotic "daddy" after that was the mystery, as was what came before- what had turned the controlled and beautiful god before her into a wild-eyed lunatic eager to conquer her world. "What?" she finally asked, when it appeared that Thor would not look up from his giant mug of beer.

His cerulean eyes suddenly raised to hers, and Fiona was struck with a new respect for Loki's brother. Thor was not nearly as foolish as believed. "That his madness- what Thanos had done to him- I did not believe he could be recovered."

She leaned in, eyeing his grieving expression carefully. "What happened to him, Thor? What did this sick fuck _do_ to him?"

"Kjæledyr."

They both stiffened at the cool, composed voice of Loki, who was standing over them. He held his broad palm out to her. "It is time to retire, little one. Do bid my brother a good evening."

Fiona looked up into the beautiful face of her daddy, deliberately expressionless. "Of course." Turning to Thor, she forced a smile. "Thank you for a nice talk. Goodnight."

Nodding back gallantly, the blond god reassembled his features into the same weak smile. "Good evening."

 

It was silent in the elevator that rushed them at an alarming speed to the Avenger's sleeping quarters. Fiona knew better than to attempt conversation. Following Loki to his- their- suite of rooms, she sighed as they entered, taking the clip out of her hair and rubbing her scalp. Sometimes, her new daddy would do this for her: rub her head or feet, his strong fingers stroking her comfortingly until she fell asleep, or until he'd aroused her enough to eagerly welcome his mouth on her, his cock driving inside her as he made her wail to another finish.

"Now what, I wonder..."

Fiona stiffened, hearing Loki's casual drawl as he strolled to one of the enormous windows, looking over the city he'd intended to conquer. "I wonder what my idiot brother could have been saying to engage you in such intense conversation?"

Staring at him, a dozen different scenarios passed through the girl's mind. Lie? Deflect? Run into the bathroom and pretend to vomit? Loki didn't look angry- at her, anyway- but there was a certain stillness to him, a chill she'd not seen before and it was freaking her out. Of all the times the god had used his infuriatingly imperious power over her, his strength, Fiona had never feared he would hurt her. But there was a cruel cast to the pale face gazing out the window, and it made her shift anxiously.

Deflection.

"Why doesn't my voice work on you?"

Loki looked at her sharply then, irritated. "I asked you a question, little girl."

Fiona scuffed one foot but held her ground. "My question is a longer standing one, Daddy."

Leaning against the window and folding his arms across his broad chest, the dark prince was looking at her with a certain sense of amusement, and she breathed deeply, relieved that his frozen, terrifying mood had changed. "I could tell you that it is simply that your pitiful mortal tricks do not affect your superiors. But I suspect that should you try your wiles on Thor, he might succumb, or at least feel it's impact."

Just barely remembering to not roll her eyes and remembering her reddened ass the last time that happened, Fiona nodded. "All right, my curse may work on yer brother. But why not you?"

Inwardly, she was quaking as Loki stepped closer, his face in shadow, save those beautiful, arresting eyes. "You know so little about yourself," he said thoughtfully, "did no one teach you what you are?"

Ruffling angrily like an offended bird, Fiona scowled. "I know what I am. What my Ma was before me, and her Ma, and my Great Gran, and so on back through our history to when we fought against the Vikings- your people!" She almost poked him angrily in the chest but drew her finger back hastily. "An' then the Romans. And the Druids, when they called _us_ witches. Us! The sheer fucking gall of some people," she muttered irritably.

"Then tell me, Kjæledyr, from where do you draw your power?" Loki was still expressionless, but the question irritated her, feeling like he viewed her as a somewhat thick student struggling through her oral exam.

Tilting her head thoughtfully, Fiona could feel it- the caress of the earth under these thousands of miles of steel and concrete, trapped in this tower with this strange and beautiful god. "From the ley lines. The Mother's energy paths that bind us. I thought it was only here, on earth but..." She paused, shuddering slightly in bliss as she remembered singing with the Bifrost. "They're everywhere," she finished, "I felt them there, on the Bifrost. Connecting the Nine Realms and further beyond, ley lines extending past what I could begin to imagine." Now he smiled down at her, one cool hand cupping her cheek.

"My clever girl. You surprise me." Laughing at her infuriated expression as Fiona attempted to pull away from his caress, Loki held her tighter. "Shhh, Kjæledyr, be still. But yes, you are correct. You are quite unique, even beyond this insignificant rock." This time, she did break free, though she was under no illusions that the god had not allowed it. “You still didn’t answer my question,” Fiona was back on track, like an angry ginger bloodhound. “Why are you not affected by my voice?”

"Your magic is part of you, little one, just as my Seiðr is to me. The two know each other... but my skill is far beyond yours. Your gift cannot cross mine." Loki's tone was calm, almost fond, and Fiona melted a little as his rough hands slid up and down her bare arms. Just as that familiar warmth was beginning to creep into her somewhat abused lady parts, his grip tightened. "And now that I have deigned to answer your question, you will answer mine. What were you speaking of with Thor?"

Chewing her lower lip, Fiona eyed him, aware that his cool hands could tighten into a steel grip. "He told me that... he was happy to see you at peace, even if it was for a few moments at a time."

"Continue." Loki's tone was implacable and his face gave nothing away, but Fiona could feel the rising tide of her anxiety and knew it was responding to something building in him as well. 

"Thor said he didn't think you would endure being sent here by your Father to atone for-" her nervous answer was abruptly cut off as he suddenly, violently lifted her off her feet and nose to nose with his white face, green eyes turning into coals of fire.

"Odin is not. My. Father. And you will not speak of him again."

Fiona was staring at the glowing ruby of his eyes, mouth open. Gasping as he shook her once, snapping her head back and forth, she grabbed his shoulders and cried out, "Aye! I won't! You're- ow! Loki-"

Abruptly placed back on her feet, she stumbled a bit, leaning against the window to catch her balance. The unfriendly god before her- the Dagda her gran always threatened her with- looked down at her contemptuously. "Go to bed. I have tolerated enough of your idiocy for one day."

Pressing her lips together, Fiona turned without a word, making for the bedroom and then into the master bath, turning on the shower to drown out her fury as she smashed her fist into the mirror.

 

Fiona was in the middle of a complicated dream where Bucky was impatiently urging her to hotwire a car while Hydra forces were riddling the auto with bullets when the smooth glide of lips and tongue went across her stomach. The muscles there clenched under the sensation, and the girl groggily marveled that she suddenly had muscles there toned enough to actually move as she slowly surfaced to hear Loki's sonorous, most compelling voice. 

"So sweet, your warm skin, these tender nipples..."

Blindly running her hands through luxurious fistfuls of her prince's hair, Fiona sighed. "Daddy?"

"Yes, little one, Daddy is here." His lips paused as he took her left hand to kiss it and found the lacerations on her knuckles from hitting the mirror. The girl moaned in relief as she felt a cool mist cover her wounds, healing them. Loki sometimes repaired her injuries from some training mishap immediately, some were left to rejuvenate on their own as a "lesson" if she'd been sloppy or inattentive.

Opening her eyes, Fiona looked up at Loki, hovering over her and his long form murky in the darkened room. She gave a little sigh as her mended hand ran softly over the marble perfection of his chest, stroking his skin and admiring the thick lines of muscle. Unclothed, the god was even more intimidating. It was easy for an untrained eye to assume he was not as strong as his brother, since he wasn't as bulky. But the sculpture of his body showed underestimating Loki would be to one's peril. "You're so beautiful..." she murmured, still half asleep. His movement under her hand as he chuckled woke Fiona up enough to be appalled at what she'd said.

"I am," he agreed, "Kjæledyr. Now, bring yourself to me." 

Pausing for one crystalline moment, Fiona could feel her very bones grind against each other in rebellion. She'd fought so long to be free of men telling her what to do. Forcing her. Everything about this moment should be repellent to her- it should make the horrible memories of Kahn and what evil men like him did to her rise up in a tidal wave of nausea and horror. But, looking up to his sharp cheekbones highlighted in a stray bit of light from the moon... how it traveled to his eyes, the perfect color of seafoam from the beaches she used to walk as a child, Fiona found she could deny him nothing. Rising from her nest of blankets, she shyly straddled his thighs, letting his strong hands arrange her.

"Oh..." Her head dropped blissfully to his collarbone as Loki easily lifted her and sank Fiona down on his cock, harder than she remembered, throbbing and cool and feeling very good inside her heated channel. To her surprise, he simply held her there, as deep inside her as he could get and his shaft filling every part of her. 

"Look at me."

Startled, her eyes rose to his, trying to turn away again before one hand turned her chin back to face him. His pelvis made a circular motion, barely enough to feel but enough to spark nerve endings all along her walls clenched around his cock.

"You will keep your eyes on me, darling. I will watch you come undone." Loki's smile of satisfaction as he watched the furious blush flow hotly up her chest and over her cheeks should have made Fiona smack him right in his conceited, perfect face. But she didn't because at that moment his hips circled again, making her gasp and dig her nails into his shoulders to anchor herself. Her tired brain was confused, he wasn't thrusting up into her as always in that glorious, greedy way he had. It was slow- painfully slow and her mysterious and confusing daddy was very deliberately rocking back and forth, the slip and slide of him so unsettling. The new movements inside her inexperienced self were putting pressure on different spots, nerve endings that had not quite been stimulated in this way before. It felt dull, heavy with the weight of him, and then as the swollen tip of his cock brushed somewhere new, Fiona would stiffen and give a little yelp that made him chuckle again. Suddenly anxious to have this _over_ with- to take her orgasm and give him his and not let him l _ook_ at her like that anymore- Fiona tried to rise up on him, only to feel Loki's hands take the newly toned globes of her ass in a death grip.

"Stop."

Loki could feel the flutter of her pulse where her chest was pressed against his, his Kjæledyr's pupils blown wide and nearly obscuring the lovely sapphire sheen he so enjoyed in her lovely gaze. When she made a small, anxious whine, he could feel the heat of a new blush travel up her neck. 

"Will you be a good girl for your daddy?"

Her anxious gaze shot back up to his then, Loki luxuriating in the immediate desire he saw there to be his good girl. He was enjoying the light sting of her nails digging into his shoulders, though the blood welling up from the crescent marks would have made a mortal man yank them from his skin. Far more distracting was the rhythmic trembling inside this tender cunt of hers, stretching so sweetly for him.

Fiona forced herself to breathe. "Of course, um..." He nearly laughed as her brow furrowed prettily, her tangled mind trying to reach for the right words. "Yes, Daddy," she finally groaned, "I'm your good girl. You know I am." She barely managed to get the last few words out before he flipped them easily, on top and staring down, still maintaining his slow and infuriating grinding and rocking motion. This time however, his pubic bone was rubbing against her clitoris, and the extra pressure made her spasm against him. Usually, it felt like her strange and perplexing lover was an octopus- arms and fingers and tongue seemingly everywhere as he fucked her- playing with her nipples, squeezing her breasts or tweaking her swollen clit. But this time, Loki's slow, deep movements centered all Fiona's senses around her channel, so tight around his cock and so wet, slicking along him and making even a lover as haughty as this Asgardian groan deeply, arching his hips to plunge deeper inside her. One quick snap of his pelvis and Fiona shrieked in a deeply satisfying manner.

"Who do you belong to, my precious slut?"

"I... You." His lovely Kjæledyr could barely gasp the words out before his hips snapped up again, arching her back and driving his cock impossibly deep.

"You desire to be my good girl, do you not?" He was purring now, that almost-lupine growl that made her superstitious senses cringe and curl away, 

Fiona was almost crying now, so desperate to come. "You know I do, Daddy. I do! Please..."

Watching the sheen of her tears turn the color a deep violet, Loki felt a painfully arousing chill shoot up his spine. So lovely, his Kjæledyr. So powerful. And she didn't have the slightest idea of just how valuable and precious she was. Lifting her easily by her hips, drawing out until only the swollen, pulsing tip of him remained inside her, he smiled savagely. 

"Now, Kjæledyr." And he dropped her down the length of his cock, enjoying her scream and how his sweet girl fell limp against him as he spurted inside her, some part of him wishing it was time to put his child inside her. But not yet. Cradling her blissfully fainted self, Loki kissed her with a tenderness he would never allow in her conscious state. There was much to do before then.

 

 

 

The Dagda- the supreme and terrifying god over the other Celtic deities.

 

 


	9. I'm The Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona fucks up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to our favorite God of All Things Lovely and Delicious. Also, #HappyBirthdayTomHiddleston is trending on Twitter. Which makes me so very happy. The man hasn't issued a tweet or an instagram for over a year. Here's hoping today is the day.

Four weeks later, assorted Avengers decided that Fiona was ready for her first mission. They were assuring Loki that she’d be out of harm’s way, and given his narrow stare, he wasn’t buying it.

“She just has to sing and look pretty,” Stark argued, barely visible over his feet on the conference room table. He was deeply hungover and not in the mood to placate the suspicious Asgardian. “We’ll do the rest. Besides, it’s the same song and dance she was doing when we found her, remember?” He chuckled to himself, “Song and dance…”

Natasha didn’t have Fiona’s reluctance to roll her eyes, so she did at Tony’s weak efforts.

“Loki, this mission is important, because Fi can recognize some of the old players from Kahn’s sleazy group. She’ll be disguised, and while she uses her whammy to lull them all into submission, we can search the event and bring in the agents to arrest the main players. They’ll never know what hit them.”

Running a pensive finger over his lips, Loki reluctantly said, “I will agree as long as I am with her.” To be honest, the rest of the crew assigned to the mission had been hoping for his effectively brutal methods in capturing some of the nastiest suspects, but since this at least got he and Fiona on the plan, they agreed. 

 

Flying into Austria, Fiona was unashamed in eagerly pushing Natasha out of the way to look out the jet window. The Russian laughed, leaning forward to allow her to get a better look. "It's not like you can see anything at this altitude Fi," she teased.

The girl wasn't listening, her breath caught as she traced the glittering map of ley lines below them, gleaming over the earth's surface, criss crossing each other in intricate patterns. Unconsciously humming, Fiona smiled blissfully. It was all so perfect. Her voice rose a little, carrying the joyful melody throughout the cabin. Bucky gasped and his hands loosened on the jet's controls, he could remember having dinner with his little sister and his mother, in their cluttered kitchen in Brooklyn. He was teasing his sister and shoveling down his meal so he could meet Steve at the dance hall- there were so many pretty dolls, just waiting for a smooth worker like him, and-

"Bucky?" Blinking, he looked over to see Steve gazing at him. "Everything okay?" Steve hadn't seen this expression on his friend's face for so long- a look of anticipation, maybe even hope. Bucky always viewed every mission with grim determination, but- was he _smiling?_

"I'm okay, Rogers... I..." Almost against his will, the Soldier smiled. "I just remembered my sister. We were having dinner, back at home, and-"

"Hey, ladies, about ready to land this heap?"

Tony's voice, even louder and more annoying in his suit, broke off his memory sharing and Bucky returned to the controls, all business. He looked over to see Steve grinning at him.

 

When Natasha had proffered the blonde wig and dress Fiona would be wearing that night, Loki looked at her as if she'd suggested dressing his little one in vomit. Sniffing, he waved away the disguise and circled his suddenly apprehensive ginger. 

"Aw," Fiona whined, "I can't wear my catsuit? It's my first onnnne!" She knew she was sniveling, but to not only find a lycra suit like Nat's on her bed that day, and ever better- finding out it actually fit her in a rather pleasing fashion made her want to strut a bit. She enjoyed the little memory of Loki walking in to see her trying it on and slowly pulling the zipper down to appreciate Fi's generous breasts squished together so nicely. But she knew better than to whine, and really, a catsuit wasn't appropriate dress for a black tie event. 

Rising obediently for Loki, she put her hands on her hips and stared up at him expectantly. She knew her haughty daddy couldn’t resist a moment of theatricality.

And Loki obliged, making an elegant wave and suddenly her hair changed from burgundy to a bright blonde, eyes grayer, face rounder, and in a move that made her want to punch him, breasts a good size or two larger.

Irritably adjusting them to fit into the tight bodice of the sparkly silver gown that was a bit more sheer than she liked, she glared at him. “Really? You don’t think the girls were enough as they were? I move too fast and these are going to bounce up and give me a black eye!” Glaring to her left at Steve and Bucky, who looked like they rather hoped it might happen, Fiona hoisted the neckline again. Natasha was trying to control a laugh and Loki was lounging next to her, looking over his protege in an uncomfortably thorough manner.

“Whoa…” with a metallic “thunk!” Tony had landed in time to wave away his helmet and get a closer look at their new agent’s “assets.” “Man, Reindeer Games, your girlfriend has some kahunas!”

"Shuddup, ya bloated tin can!" Fiona snarled.

"Now, Tony, that's disrespectful-" began Steve.

Natasha was about to stand between them when a rusty sound made them all turn around. Bucky was leaning against the door to the jet, handsome in his all black armor and-

"Is he _laughing?"_ Tony cocked his head, staring at the amused Soldier. Indeed, Bucky was, for the first time any of them could remember.

Fiona found herself oddly moved by the lovely discovery and hastened to take the attention off him. "Great, now if Stork can close the arsehole he uses as a mouth, maybe we can all move on with the instructions, eh?" She gave the still chucking Bucky a brief wink and turned to Loki and Steve. 

Really, thought Fiona, it was a simple enough plan. Running through her warmup for her voice backstage, she tried to control her shaking hands. Strut out on stage, belt out a few songs, get all these bastards relaxed and loosey-goosey and get some good shots with the mini camera in her earring and signal Loki when she saw someone she recognized from Kahn’s crew.

Easy enough.

As long as she didn’t vomit the moment she saw one of those sick fucks.

Unbidden, visions of men laughing as she was subjected to one torment or another made Fiona put her hand to her stomach, slumping over.

“Kjæledyr.”

The cool, sonorous voice of her daddy flowed over her shattered nerves. His hand smoothed over the bare skin of her back, stroking in soft circles as Fiona tried to control her breathing. “There’s my good girl,” he whispered into her ear, “play your role for Daddy and you’ll get a very special treat tonight.”

“What, like a pony?” Her effort at bravado failed as Fiona heard her voice shake.

“Shhhh…” Loki’s mouth was sliding down the thin skin of her throat, “There is nothing to fear, little one. I will be here with you. No harm will come to you, you have my word.” Fiona gave a little moan, tipping her head back on his shoulder as his other hand lightly fisted into her hair, turning her to kiss him. “Imagine, my savage Celtic goddess, your pleasure when I tear one of Kahn’s half-wit troglodytes into many small, screaming pieces? Won’t that be lovely?” She smiled malevolently, just as Loki knew she would, and he returned the smile, the two of them looking alarmingly alike. “Daddy’s good girl,” he approved.

Shaking out her hands and straightening her posture, Fiona raised her head haughtily, stepping out into the lights trained on the musicians, an empty mic waiting for her.

"Guten Abend meine Damen und Herren!" she cooed, giving a coy wave. "Solche wunderschönen Menschen, so ein schöner Ort. Bist du bereit für einen magischen Abend?" As Fiona gave her best, simpering smile, inwardly she was grinning savagely. 'More magical than you think, motherfuckers.'

Humming lightly as the band kicked in, Fiona admired the atrium. Really, the place was beautiful, even if it was filled with the most loathsome arseholes on the planet. The four story building soared up in a massive panel of glass on three sides that sparkled under the well-placed lighting from the crystal chandeliers. Gleaming marble flooring, art and sculptures that she knew would cost more than the GNP of a medium-sized country. And those bastards.

Oh, yes, Fiona thought bitterly, she recognized them. At least six of the expensively dressed men in the ballroom were old buddies of the monster who'd kept her for all those years.

 _"Nobody does it better_  
_Makes me feel sad for the rest_  
_Nobody does it half as good as you_  
_Baby, you're the best..."_

Pouring all the innocent admiration, adoration and lust that she could into the song, Fiona's voice soared over the heads of the celebrants, already straightening and turning toward the stage.

_"I wasn't lookin' but somehow you found me_

_It tried to hide from your love light_

_But like heaven above me_

_The spy who loved me_

_Is keepin' all my secrets safe tonight..."_

Fiona had to swallow down a gag. Yes, they were loving this.

_"And nobody does it better_ _Though sometimes I wish someone could_ _Nobody does it quite the way you do_

_Why'd you have to be so good?"_

"Excellent work, Kjæledyr," she could hear Loki's voice slide along the edge of her consciousness, stroking along her jagged nerves like a caress. "The team is triangulating on the men you've identified. Make them relax. Make them preen, darling."

“Yeah, I can do that, Daddy,” Fiona’s answer was grim, even as her white teeth sparkled under the lights. While she didn’t have access to the movements of the rest of the team, she knew they were going through the building, taking up their positions and disarming security. She didn’t know if this evening was specifically a Hydra event, but the audience disgusted and terrified her. She _knew_ these people, even if she didn’t recognize every face. They laughed coarsely, greedy avaricious faces and cruel smiles that enjoyed- _craved_ the suffering of others.

“Easy, little one.” Loki’s voice was a balm. “I feel your heart pounding. Daddy has you.”

Breathing in deep, Fiona started her next song, her posture becoming sultry, slightly taunting.

_“I know the score like the back of my hand_

_Them other boys, I don't give a damn_

_They kiss on the ring, I carry the crown_

_Nothing can break, nothing can break me down_

_Don't need no advice, I got a plan_

_I know the direction, the lay of the land_

_I know the score like the back of my hand_

_Them other boys, I don't give a damn…”_

Strutting up and down the stage, Fiona’s hips swayed, the spotlight flashing off her silver sequined gown, crystals at the hem clicking and clacking against her high heels. Conversation was dying down in the audience, the men turning more towards her, their prettily painted dates pouting a bit at being ignored.

_"I'm the man, come round_

_No-no-nothing can break, no-nothing can break me down_

_I'm the man, come round and_

_No-no-nothing can break, you can't break me down_

_I got gas in the tank_

_I got money in the bank_

_I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man_

_I got skin in the game_

_I got a household name_

_I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man!"_

"Huh," Tony's head was bobbing in his suit, "The Killers. Nice choice."

Loki's arms were folded, his posture elaborately relaxed, but those emerald eyes were darting through the crowd, watching the pheromonal drifts coming off the men as they leaned in to watch his pet. She was magnificent- he was very pleased with Fiona tonight. She strutted elaborately, flipping her big blonde hair, shoulders and hips shimmying in a way that set her generous new cleavage off to excellent effect. And that voice...

The God of Lies had actually been speaking the truth when he told Fiona her voice did not affect him, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate it's impact on others. And these coarse, base creatures were so very easy to read. 

_"Yeah, I'm the man, baby!"_

_"I think my dick just doubled in size..."_

_"What the fuck, man? He paid this much money and he's not even gonna look at me? What's that cow singing, anyway?"_

_"I got what you need, bitch..."_

Fiona's heart was pumping furious blood into her veins, and she had to force herself to redirect before her voice turned these fuckers to anger instead of puffed-up pride. 

"Just a bit longer, Kjæledyr." Loki's voice calmed her, "The others tell me everyone is nearly in place. I shall give you the signal to withdraw." Nodding slightly, Fiona sent out an extra hip swing in his direction as she headed into the final lines of the song.

_"When it comes to Friday, I always earn_ _Don't try to teach me, I got nothing to learn_ _'Cause baby I'm gifted_

_You see what I mean?_

_USDA certified lean..."_

They were almost there, thought Natasha, pressing her hand to her ear to listen to the electronic exchange with the others. She was so proud of Fi, she thought, smiling down at where the girl was swaying back and forth, everyone in her thrall. The team was wearing special blockers that Loki had assisted Bruce in creating- blockers that altered the pitch and variance of Fiona's compelling singing- that kept it from affecting them. Mostly. Smirking slightly, the Russian suspected that Tony at least was grateful to have his suit hiding an erection.

Yes, everything was going perfectly, just according to plan. Fury was standing in the bridge of the helicarrier, watching all the feed from the video cameras embedded into the team's armor. 'Maybe the acquisition isn't worthless after all,' he thought, looking at Fiona toy with the targets in the audience. Turning his head slightly, he looked at one of his captains. "Be ready for deployment in exactly two minutes."

Yes, everything was going perfectly. Until Fiona saw him.

Casper Borof had been Kahn's second in command. In fact, if Loki had seen him, he would have recognized him as one of the men who dragged Fiona screaming into that chamber of horrors on the security feed from Kahn's demolished estate. But Fiona saw him, standing just left of the stage, drinking from a tumbler of chilled vodka and licking his lips, not hiding his intention to really make the girl earn her appearance fee that night. Casper didn't recognize her, Fiona could tell that much, but her voice faltered as she tried not to gag, remembering all the times he'd stood over Kahn's shoulder, rubbing his crotch and laughing as his boss did something horrible to her, enjoying her screams and her pathetic begging. The times he got her alone and he- 

Loki looked up sharply as Fiona's voice died as the puzzled musicians kept playing. 

"Oh, no," groaned Steve, looking frantically over the room to see where his team was. "Loki," he spoke urgently into his speaker, "can you pull Fiona? Is she losing it?"

Fury shifted, growling as he watched the feed. He couldn't tell what was happening from this angle, but he could tell that Irish bitch was about to fuck this mission up.

And, Fiona did. Spectacularly. As Casper started ambling along the rim of the stage towards her, his disgusting smirk making his intentions clear, all she could think was, "Nonononono notagain youmotherfucker youcan'thurtme youcan't hurtme YOUCAN'THURTME!" And her beautiful voice soared up in a terrifying swoop, the register climbing higher and higher and Loki suddenly shouted-

"MUTE!! MUTE YOUR EARPIECES!"

The crystal chandeliers shattered in a stately one-two punch, raining jagged shards down over the suddenly screaming crowd. The multi-storied windows began cracking, rapid fault lines racing along the ridiculously thick panels as the marble tiles on the vast floor began shifting. And then, the windows exploded. Inward, shooting chunks of glass like bullets. But their velocity was not random. Screaming women, waiters and the musicians weren't touched, aside from the occasional scratch if they stumbled over something sharp, trying to escape. But the men- particularly the ones Fiona targeted- were shredded, torn apart like bloody gauze. It appeared however, that Fiona's instinct for self-preservation wasn't as attentive as her concern for the (somewhat) innocents in the hall. With a curse, Loki dove for her, both of them disappearing as the crystal bullets hurtled in her direction.

Dimly, Fiona could hear gunfire and shouting as she and Loki reappeared outside running in the direction of the meeting point. She tripped over one of the ridiculously high heels he'd put her in, and the prince growled as he threw her over his shoulder, moving fast enough to blur. The girl managed to pull herself together to count as everyone hurtled back on board, Steve nimbly clipping a line of automatic fire off his shield before it could enter the cockpit of the jet. 

Looking back, Bucky groaned. "Oh, _fuck."_

"What?" shouted Natalie, busy prepping the jet's console for flight. 

"They have surface to air missiles," he said shortly. Speaking into his mic, he shouted  "Stark! You seeing this?"

A garbled electronic response that sounded suspiciously like a line of exceptionally creative cursing was his answer as Tony managed to block the first missile fired from decimating the jet. But the blow knocked him sideways into a building, crushing the corner and stunning him temporarily. Then Loki swooped out, racing to pull Stark's impossibly heavy suit from where it was embedded in the brick and blocked the second missile sent blazing toward the jet. Fiona screamed, looking for him as the explosion seared her corneas, trying to find him again. When she felt the pull against her harness as they took off, she yanked frantically against the straps.

"Stop! Stop you idiot Loki is the out there! STOP!"

Bucky's metal arm came across her ribs, pushing her back against the seat and acting as her seatbelt as the jet's acceleration jolted everyone sideways. "He's here," he said into Fiona's ear, "he's right here. He's safe."

"Okay," she tried not to cry, "o-okay." The moment his arm released her, Fiona darted over to the still form of the god. His face was bloodied and pale, but as she reached him, hands running over his body to assess his injuries, Loki opened his eyes. 

"Stop your wailing, Kjæledyr," he groaned slightly, sitting up. "I am fine."

"You got hit by _a surface to air missile,_ Daddy!" Fiona sniffed, still searching for damage.

Steve looked at Bucky. "Daddy?" he mouthed, and the Soldier shrugged.

 

“What. The FUCK. Was. THAT?”

To Fiona’s dismay, Natasha landed their jet on Fury’s helicarrier, and they were all seated in his conference room. Most of their team got out unscathed, a few bumps and bruises. Tony’s suit spared him from nearly everything, though he’d somehow gotten his hands on a very large cocktail somewhere between ridding himself of his damaged metal and Fury’s rage. Fiona’s flimsy dress didn’t protect her, so there was a serious of small, bloody cuts and bruises dotting her arms, shoulders and back. Her fiery hair tumbled over her shoulders and her mascara ran down her face in streaks. In unfortunate contrast, Natasha sitting next to her looked perfectly put together. 

Steve was rubbing his hand over his forehead. "Director-"

"Did I ask you to TALK, Captain?" Fury was definitely living up to his name, jabbing his finger savagely and bellowing loud enough to make the team's somewhat serrated hearing painful. Loki's warning had come just in time to keep Fiona's high note from blowing out everyone's eardrums, but it was a field test that proved that the "mute" setting Bruce developed was not quite good enough.

"The mission wasn't a wash, Cyclops, so lighten up."

Steve closed his eyes. Yes, Tony had definitely self-medicated. "What Tony is trying to say is that we transmitted crystal-clear images of everyone in that building. The computer already cross-matched at least twelve HYDRA chiefs, and-"

"AND THEY'RE ALL DEAD, ROGERS!" The vein in Fury's temple bulged ominously, and he reminded himself to take his blood pressure medication right after he threw this idiot girl off the deck of his helicarrier and watched her fall screaming through the clouds.

Loki's low, cultured voice cut through the clamor. "No one was captured, Fury. But you have at least a dozen rather considerable terrorist threats that have been eliminated in a spectacular fashion that sent a clear message. It will not slow HYDRA, but it will certainly give pause to several smaller organizations. Now, if you've quite finished your tantrum-"

"You shut the hell up!" Fury couldn't decide who he hated more at the moment, the smirking god in front of him, or Thor's asshole father for sticking him with Loki. "You are here under my indulgence. And you're getting on my last nerve. So don't tempt me to send you back to your Daddy's dungeon!"

Fiona stiffened slightly. This was the first she'd heard of Loki's past after losing the battle for earth. But if this crazy one-eyed fucker thought he was going to diss her daddy-

"Have calm, little girl. And keep those lovely lips shut or I will sew them together." Loki's cold warning rang through her head, and the redhead looked down at her hands clenched in her lap.

"Enough." Everyone looked over at Steve, shocked. He never stood up to Fury, his military-ingrained obedience to a higher rank was just too strong. "Fiona followed the parameters of the mission as dictated. I've reviewed the footage and one of Kahn's chiefs was moving closer to her onstage. There was a real threat that he recognized her and could have blown the entire mission. Fiona's defense was certainly..." he floundered for the words while everyone stared at him, open-mouthed. "...was certainly scorched-earth," he managed, "but she neutralized the threat and we all got out intact. And criticizing Loki here is wrong. He took a full surface to air missile to the _back_ to protect Tony." The blond drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Now I'm taking my team and we're leaving. Everyone needs medical care." Everyone gratefully stood as he did and began to leave the room when Fury's voice halted them.

"Fine. Get some rest. But _she_ stays here."

Fiona's blood turned to ice. She knew perfectly well who that jack-booted lunatic meant, and if he kept her, she was certain she'd never see any of these people again. If she ever saw the outside of a cell in her lifetime, she'd be shocked. Jaw clenched, she decide a quick jump off the side of this floating hellhole would be her first move before she'd let that happen again.

Loki's eyes began to glow. There was no other way to describe the fire there, and with his back to Fury, only Steve could see it. 

"No, Fiona's part of my team. And she's leaving with us." Steve's arm went around her shoulders just as Loki's went around her waist, and the girl was suffused with warmth. 

Blue eyes narrowed, Steve watched Fury's turn curiously blank. "You're putting your future at risk for this incompetent lunatic, Captain. Do you understand this?"

Fury hated how Captain America's majestic chest swelled, his square jaw firm as he stared back. "I have complete faith in my team. And that includes Fiona. We're leaving, everyone."

 

Back on the jet, Fiona stared at Steve as Natasha flew them back to Stark Tower. "Why did you do that?"

Glancing up from a digital readout from the firefight, he looked at her, confused. "Do what?"

"You... stood up for me," she said slowly, "you let Fury's uh... fury turn on you. Why would you do that?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed. "The mission wasn't scrubbed, Fi. We still came out with valuable intel and the elimination of known HYDRA operatives. Fury's being an ass- uh, a jerk."

Groaning as a slow grin crossed Fiona's face, he looked back down at his tablet as she cooed, "You almost swore there, Captain Atlantic. I'm a bad influence."

"It's America," Steve muttered, "Captain America." 

Back in their rooms, Fiona watched Loki as he casually stripped off her clothing, running his hands over her cuts and bruises. Sighing with relief as the familiar warmth began tingling over her skin, she murmured, “Thank you. For saving me. For healing me.”

Loki’s perfect brow arched. “I am your Daddy. And despite what that militarized thug threatened, I would never allow him to take you. We will work on your control. But I am very pleased with you for shredding that filth to pieces. I witnessed your memory just before you sang the building apart.”

Stumbling a little with weariness, Fiona yawned. “How is it that you are not injured, Daddy? You were hit by that goddamned missile.”

As she expected, he sniffed. “I am a god, you silly creature. Now, get into bed.” Obeying as he disappeared into the bathroom, Fiona’s eyes drooped before she realized she had to pee. Hauling herself off the lovely, cushioned mattress, she headed into the open door of the bathroom.

“Daddy, I need to go to the-”

Loki’s back was to her, his tall body naked. And the pale perfection of his skin was gone. The Prince of Asgard was covered in scars: healing red worms of tissue, burn marks, flat patches of scarring that looked like the skin had literally been flayed from his body, puckered divots where chunks of muscle must have been severely damaged. His head jerked up, cold eyes meeting her shocked ones in the mirror.

“Get out.”

“Daddy! What happened? This isn't all from tonight, not by a long shot- who did-”

Loki was nose to nose with her in a second, his white, set face terrifying.

“Get. Out. Or I shall flay the skin from your body and you will be my twin.”

Stumbling backwards, Fiona tried to nod as his hand made a sharp gesture and the door slammed in her face.

 

 

 

"Guten Abend meine Damen und Herren" German: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

"Solche wunderschönen Menschen, so ein schöner Ort. Bist du bereit für einen magischen Abend?" Such gorgeous people, such a beautiful spot. Are you ready for a magical evening?

 

"Nobody Does It Better" Carly Simon

"I'm The Man" The Killers

  
 


	10. I'll Be Seeing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona redeems herself. Loki is conspicuously absent.

 

Fiona waited as long she could that night for Loki to come out of the bathroom. Finally losing patience, she let her frustration overcome her good sense and knocked on the door. “Loki? Daddy? You’ve seen all of me- all my scars. You’ve never let me feel ashamed of them. Can’t you give me the benefit of the doubt about yours?” Silence, so she knocked again. “Daddy?” Opening the door, Fiona scowled to see it empty.

“Sneaky bastard! Apparatin’ out o’ here and slinking off like the mangy…” Stomping angrily off to bed, she was embarrassed to feel herself start to cry. Exhausted, she fell asleep, never hearing him slip back in and stand over her, watching her sleep. Fiona didn’t feel Loki run those rough fingertips along her cheek and neck, and then didn't hear him leave again.

Nor was he there the next morning when Fiona woke, groaning the second she moved. While Loki healed all her cuts from the glass storm the day before, all her other little injuries made themselves known in one spiteful, full-body sweep. To make the moment perfect, insistent knocking sounded on the suite’s front door, getting obnoxiously louder the longer it went. When hiding under her pillow no longer helped, Fiona snarled, “All RIGHT, you arsehole! Hold off! I’m coming, I’m coming…” Muttering bitterly to herself, the girl stomped through the living room and ripped the door open.

“What the HELL do you want, you fucking- Oh, hi Steve. How do you feel today?”

Hand still poised upwards to knock again, his patriotic blue eyes widened as Rogers realized Fiona was wearing nothing but pink undies and one of the “Free Loki!” t-shirts that became an internet treasure after the dark prince’s defeat. The Avengers tried not to be bitter that his t-shirts still outsold theirs 2 to 1. Combined. "Uh... better, Fi. And uh..." Steve was nobly attempting to avert his gaze from the girl's long, bare legs and having a little trouble. "Yeah." Finally putting his hand down and stuffing it in his jean's pocket, he smiled sheepishly. "You know Bucky would have something smoother to say right now, like 'Nice stems, doll,' or..."

Looking down and noticing for the first time that her shirt hit her somewhere around mid-navel, Fiona yanked down the hem, smiling uncomfortably. Had she been Natasha, she would have swayed to the door stark naked and posed in some outrageously sultry fashion. But she was not the dangerous Russian goddess, so Fiona awkwardly stepped behind the door. "What's up, Captain Underpants? Did I miss a training session?"

"It's Captain Amer- you know what, never mind. I was just checking to see how you were, and since Loki's gone, I thought you'd want to come down and have breakfast with me and-"

"Loki's gone?" Fiona was humiliated by the look of surprise and then pity on the kind face before her. 

Steve attempted to make it less awkward, “Oh. Well. He was called back to Asgard on something urgent. That’s why Thor wasn’t with us on the mission yesterday. It was pretty sudden, so... Anyway, why don’t you join us and we’ll have a debriefing?” Watching her eyes drop, he cocked his head lower to look in her suspiciously bright eyes. “Come on. I’ll make some bacon?”

Swallowing the sadness about to swamp her, Fiona nodded firmly. “Yeah. That’ll be great. I’ll be right there. Just need to put something on these uh, nice stems.” Forcing a chuckle at Steve’s exaggerated groan, she shut the door and gave herself exactly three minutes to cry. It was a formula. Three minutes before Kahn’s filth strapped her down on a table and started an experiment. Three minutes before a surveillance camera caught her trying to escape his hell-hole and the men with guns would come after her.. Three minutes before whatever her voice charmed someone to do was irrevocable. And three minutes was all she deserved.

To her surprise, even a sour and painfully hungover Tony was attempting to shovel down Steve’s pancakes with the rest of the group when she entered the kitchen designated for the Avengers. “Morning, all,” Fiona smiled, heading for the fridge to grab some orange juice. It still secretly cracked her up to see little post-it notes from Earth’s Mightiest Superheroes saying things like “Touch my cookie dough and die by a thousand knife cuts,” or “Leave my almond milk alone! This means YOU, Banner,” and “Hey, I found the vodka! It was hiding in the orange juice! Love, Tony.”

Fiona sighed. “Apple juice it is.”

Settling at the table after piling a plate high with pancakes and bacon, Fiona was stunned to get a kiss on the cheek from Natasha and a chorus of "Good mornings" from everyone else. 

"What, you're talking to me?" she blurted. "But I fucked up the mission?"

Bruce shook his head firmly. "I was viewing the feed from here, kid. You were great!" His smile faded a bit but stayed on his tired face. "You were courageous, you protected the non-targets- you should be proud of yourself." Looking around the table at the nods and grins of approval from the rest, Fiona scratched her head.

"But. I blew shite up."

"I know, you Screeching Harpy of Dublin!" Tony raised his glass to her in a toast, "You were the vengeful Celtic Hooters of Death, man! You knocked those fuckers clean off the 'Terrorist Do Not Fly' list and I for one, salute you!" And Stark did, ignoring the fact he sloshed his beverage on Bruce's eggs. With a sigh, Banner got up to replenish his plate as the rest of the group talked and finished the meal.

Fiona held herself together until the rather pleasant breakfast was finished and everyone began drifting off for their day's requirements. Steve nobly stayed at the table with her, even knowing he was in for an interrogation and likely some female tears, which terrified him more than Fury, the entire ruling body of HYDRA or losing his 100 year old virginity. 

"So, where's he at." The redhead was looking down, drawing designs on the white tablecloth with wet rings from her juice glass.

Steve sighed, leaning back. "I only know that Thor sent a message this morning, saying that he'd met Loki in Asgard for some briefing and then they headed to Van... uh... Var..."

"Vanaheim," Fiona finished with a sigh, remembering the violet lines that ran across the Bifrost and led to that Realm.

"Yep," Steve popped the "p" a bit in relief. "They should be back any time."

Nodding as she looked down at her coffee cup, the girl ventured, "So, he didn't leave a message for me, or anything? A note? A flower? A tube of chapstick?" 

Forcing herself to glance up, Fiona could see that look of pity again before Rogers could wipe it off his face. “Eh, never mind. So, what happens now?”

He beamed happily, clearly relieved to have that awkward exchange over with before the girl started… crying, or something. “We keep training,” Steve laughed, ignoring her groan, “and start researching for our next mission.” His handsome face sobered a bit. “We did capture two survivors last night- they were in the men’s room when the… uh…”

“When I fucked up,” Fiona filled in, rubbing her eyes tiredly. God, she could sleep for another 12 hours, but that would mean waking up without Loki again.

Steve patted her shoulder gingerly and continued. “What they told us fits with some of the other intel S.H.I.E.L.D collected.”

He took a deep breath, and Fiona met his eyes. ‘Aw, shite,’ she thought.

“Kahn’s still alive.”

\---------------------------- 

"Higher up."

Fiona growled and slugged at Bucky's sparring mitts as hard as she could.

"Better. You're hitting just about as hard as my mother, now. Keep going." They were in the gym used primarily by Bucky and Steve, and while Fiona had always enjoyed watching the two knock the seven bells out of each other, falling victim to the Soldier's sudden decision that she needed to know how to use her fists was an unpleasant development. Ignoring her look of horror, he'd dragged her into the gym and tied his hair up into a man-bun.

Watching him tape her hands, Fiona whined, "Aren't I supposed to be wearing gloves?"

Bucky shook his head, still intent on her knuckles. "Are you going to be wearing boxing gloves when some HYDRA bastard comes after you?"

"How about I just sing him into punching his own face?" she offered helpfully, deflating when he gave her an unamused look. 

He began circling her in that way Fiona _hated_ , and countered with, "And if we're running on silent? What do you do then?"

"Put a silencer on my gun like any intelligent girl and shoot him?" 

"Put your hands up, Fiona. I'm going to start by coming at you from the left." The Soldier's head lowered in that vaguely feral way he had and she sighed.

_"Fine."_

Two hours later, covered in sweat and prone, panting and groaning on the mat, the redhead looked at an amused Bucky, who of course looked as relaxed as if he'd been doing nothing but lounging with a beer and a soccer game on Stark's movie theatre-sized screen in the lounge. "Y'know, if you were doing this to distract me from the fact that those two Asgardian gits suddenly disappeared and that the sick bastard who used to own me is still alive, there's easier ways. We could have made some cookies... maybe a double fudge cake..." Fiona's mouth watered. Cake. She hadn't had much in the way of sweets since starting the hell-sent regimen that her evil daddy had saddled her with all those weeks ago.

To her surprise, Bucky perked up. “You… bake?” he asked in a tone as reverent as if he’d asked if she could heal the sick or part the waters of the Nile.

“Uh, yeah!” Fiona was instantly cheerful. Her best memories from childhood were watching her ma and gran bustle around the kitchen, singing and leaning over to help her roll out the pie crust to just the right thickness. Food was love. Food was comfort and how they cared for their neighbors. “My Ma and Gran, they taught me. They were always making up some gigantic pot of stew for someone who was sick down the block or teaching me and my friends to bake a good loaf of soda bread or cupcakes and… yeah.”

The Soldier could smell it- the godawful baked cod his mom made every Friday, but there was also her scalloped potatoes and then pie for dessert. She always made pie for his birthday instead of cake because she knew his favorite was-

“French silk pie.”

Fiona looked up from untaping her knuckles. “Pardon?”

Bucky cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. “Uh, French silk. It was my favorite. My Mom always used to make it for my birthday.”

Smiling but trying to not look too excited and break the spell, Fiona said casually, “You just remember that?” Shrugging when he looked up in surprise, she assured him, “No one’s talking about your business, Barnes. I just saw your face in the jet- when you were talking about your sister?” The small smile that bloomed on his full lips was beautiful, like a sunrise, she thought fondly. Then her own faded. "They tried to make me forget, too. Forget anything before Kahn."

Searching for the right thing to say- anything to say, really- Bucky suddenly remembered something important. "Well, it's Steve's birthday two days from now."

Fiona barked out a laugh. "The Fourth of July? Seriously, now?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Maybe... we could make him a cake? Rogers loves chocolate. So that fudge thing you mentioned?"

She studied Bucky's beautiful, fragile face. His hair was falling in his eyes again and she could tell his efforts to be kind were shoving him painfully out of his comfort zone of monosyllabic grunts and scowls. "Of course we can! We can throw him a party-" watching his face pale, she quickly assured him, "no, just a small one, just the team. I know you two were the dance masters, so maybe you could teach the rest of us a couple of moves?" Rolling her eyes and still feeling a muscle memory twinge in her ass from Loki's huge hand, Fiona laughed. "God knows I could use it."

 

It was surprisingly easy to get everyone else on board. Natasha was more enthusiastic than Fiona expected, and Banner agreed. Tony, who was always up for a party reluctantly agreed to tone down his vision of a fleet of escorts, fire dancers and enough fireworks to set Manhattan aflame to a 1940's style party. Keeping it from Steve was easier than she'd planned, since he was deep in research about their foray into Russia to go after Kahn and the HYDRA lab where their intelligence suggested he was hiding.

"Straighten up! God, Fiona- I can't even zip this with you wiggling!" Natasha was attempting to wedge an impatient Fiona into a dark green dress with a pleated line of fabric that held the dress just off her shoulders, with a tight bodice and a lovely, flared skirt that swirled in a deeply satisfying way. "Any word from Loki?" she dreaded asking Fiona, because she hated the way her shoulders slumped. But no one had heard from Thor or Loki, and she'd hoped that maybe Loki wasn't such an ass, at least to his precious "pet". Yes, of course she knew what "Kjæledyr" meant, thank you Google Translate.

Fiona tried, and failed, to sound indifferent. "Not a word. Of course."

Natasha folded her arms, frowning. "What happened that night after we got back from Austria?" 

The girl was torn. Confiding in her friend would be so nice, but this was Loki. Fiercely private, proud Loki. "What do you know about what happened to Loki after he was captured here on Earth?"

Picking up a makeup sponge, Natasha said, "I know he was imprisoned in his father's dungeon. A dungeon! And not the BDSM kind, either." Laughing at her little joke, she could tell by Fiona's polite smile that she didn't have the faintest idea of what Natasha was referring to.

"Was he in, you know, pretty bad shape after the Battle of New York?"

"Well, yeah-" Natasha started laughing, "Bruce Hulked out and gave him the beating of a lifetime, we found him half-embedded in Stark's granite floor in the Sky Lounge."

"But..." Fiona tried to think of what to say, "did Loki have a lot of burns, scars? Looking like patches of skin were missing?"

She looked up to see the other woman's frown. "No, nothing like that. Why?"

Fiona sighed. "I don't know what I should say, Nat. I can't violate his privacy. But... I walked in on him that night when he thought I was asleep. Loki was naked, but he wasn't perfect, the way he always looks around people?" She shook her head sorrowfully, "He was torn apart. Scars and burns everywhere. It looked like someone-" she choked on a sob, "like someone tore skin off his body. But why wouldn't he heal himself? It's one of Loki's strongest skills as a mage."

Pursing her perfect lips thoughtfully, Natasha said, "The only thing I know is that Odin sent him back here still in pretty bad shape. It took Bruce a while to get him back on his feet. I overheard Thor telling him that his father had blocked Loki's ability to heal himself- he said something like 'Odin wants him to know what suffering is, since he inflicted it on us."

Her jaw popped as Fiona's teeth ground together. "I know just enough to be clear that the fucking Titan bastard son of bitch tortured Loki. In ways that make HYDRA and that pig Kahn look like amateurs. And the AllDaddy thought Loki needed more? 'Muk fecker!'"

The Russian deftly pulled her hair up in a pretty chignon and patted her shoulders. "There's not one of us here who've led a fair life, Fi. I wish I could tell you more." Handing her a tube of red lipstick, she eyed the girl expectantly. 

Fiona eyed it doubtfully. "Red? You remembering my hair color?"

Natasha shrugged, finishing Fiona's eyes with with a cat's-eye swoop of eyeliner. "I wear it all the time."

Obediently applying the bright stain, Fiona pursed her lips, looking at the beautiful Russian behind her in the mirror. "Yeah, because you're... you know... YOU."

And Natasha was magnificent- in a sapphire silk dress, hair curled and dipping artfully over one eye. Squeezing Fiona's shoulders, she  laughed. "Go check on the ballroom and the cake. I'll go see the mess the men are no doubt making of their suits."

"It's perfect!"

Fiona's mouth dropped when she entered the room that Tony promised to handle. She was still terrified she'd see Calvin Harris managing a huge DJ deck of equipment and a bunch of scantily clad dancers. Instead, it was the muted lighting of a 1940's style dance hall with little tables, red, white and blue balloons, an old-fashioned bar and a little riser with the bandstand that looked like the ones in the war movies, where men in white tuxedo jackets would play Big Band style music and everyone was elegant. In short, everything she was not. Taking a deep sigh, Fiona vowed to make this night perfect for Steve. She owed him.

"Fi, let me introduce you- this is Jane- Dr Jane Foster? She was the first to encounter Thor." Natasha was walking in with two women, both carrying gifts and clad in charming vintage dresses.

"And now he's her booooyfriend," piped up another loud voice from a dark haired girl with a huge smile and equally large breasts- just about the size, in fact, that Loki had "gifted" her with he created her image for that disastrous mission. Seeing Fiona's confusion, she stepped forward. "Darcy. Not Thor's girlfriend but Jane's assistant and the person that gives her dreary life meaning when Thor's not in town."

Laughing and shaking her hand, Fiona looked Darcy up and down. "That's an amazing dress! I'm Fi-"

"Oh, yeah," Darcy flapped one hand towards Bruce, who was just entering and straightening his tie. "Doc's been telling us about you."

For a minute, Fiona felt like she'd been punched in the stomach until the loud girl continued, "He says you're like a professional musician?"

Shaking her head in relief, the red head demurred, "Definitely not professional. And Dr Jane, nice to meet you." Thor's lady was lovely, but tiny- _tiny_ , and for an uncomfortable moment Fiona tried to think of how those two put everything together and did it. 'Ugh!' she shuddered internally, 'never mind.' "Well, you both look great, I'm glad you're here- more dance partners for the boys."

"Wait." Darcy's loud voice carried again, "Bucky and the Capt aren't doing the horizontal mamba _yet?_ "

They were saved by Stark's painfully loud whisper. "Bucky's bringing him in! Hurry!"

Steve's tone was his patented 'I'm trying to be a good guy here but I'm really uncomfortable with where this is going," and Fiona smuggled a giggle. "Buck, why am I dressed in this getup? If we're going out for a beer I'm going to look like an escapee from a bad gangster movie."

 

"SURPRISE!"

For a brief moment, it occured to Fiona that leaping out from a darkened room while screaming "Surprise!" at two guys with PTSD from the war was perhaps ill-conceived. Fortunately, Bucky was prepared and Steve only jumped a little.

"What's- what are you guys doing?" Steve had a small, helpless smile on his face as he looked around. He could have stepped into one of the old dance halls he and Bucky used to go to every weekend. Of course, back then he'd sit at the table nursing a Coca Cola while Bucky danced and charmed women into coming back to the table, hopefully with a friend who'd take one look at him, and-

Fiona gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "Happy Birthday. You've put up with our music and club nights, so we thought it was time we got to spend a night in your favorite spot." She eagerly watched him look around, a growing grin on his handsome face. 

"This is perfect, doll. Hey, Bucky? It looks just like that place down on Lorris Street, right?"

Bucky looked ridiculously good, and Fi suspected Natasha had gotten to him, his immaculate suit fit the man- even with the metal arm- perfectly. His hair was gelled into some sort of style, and with Steve's perfect All-American stature, they were a gorgeous couple. He looked at his best friend's excited, sincere face and felt his heart melt. "Yeah Rogers. It does. Just like home."

Feeling the moment slip to melancholy, Fiona immediately redirected them all. "Let's start with a not double, but triple chocolate fudge birthday cake and some champagne, all right? Then dancing- lots of dancing!" Happy for the mood switch, everyone laughed and nodded, heading for the table groaning with sweets surrounding a magnificent cake.

"This is amazing!" Steve groaned blissfully, trying to not talk with his mouth full. "You made this, Fi?"

"Yep," she answered thickly, unwilling to swallow her mouthful of white chocolate frosting before it's time on her taste buds. "Bucky helped me."

"Bucky cooked?" Banner gaped at a suddenly stiff Barnes, who shrugged.

 

It was turning into a wonderful night, mused Fiona. She hadn't set anything on fire, turned glass into bullets or melted blood out of anyone's ears. So far, so good. Unbidden, she had the clearest vision of Loki purring, "There's Daddy's good girl." Blinking away tears, she cursed herself for caring so much. With a wave, she cued the orchestra and stepped up to the mic. Of course, she couldn't have a real band here- not with a group as private as this, but Tony crafted together a hologram of a big band orchestra who sat in their stand, ready to play.

"Grab a partner, you're all dancing your asses off tonight! Especially you, Captain Anachronistic!"

Faintly, Fiona heard "It's America. Captain Amer-"

The music drowned out his protest and the girl launched into "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy," horns blaring cheerfully.

 _"He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way_  
_He had a boogie style that no one else could play_  
_He was the top man at his craft_  
_But then his number came up, and he was gone with the draft_  
_He's in the army now, a-blowin' reveille_  
_He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B..."_

Fiona clumsily gave a little shimmy like Bette Midler had in the YouTube video she'd watched the night before, and was astonished to see Bruce of all people be the first to drag Jane out on the floor, smoothly moving into the vigorous dance.

 _They made him blow a bugle for his Uncle Sam_  
_It really brought him down because he couldn't jam_  
_The captain seemed to understand_  
_Because the next day the cap' went out and drafted a band_  
_And now the company jumps when he plays reveille_  
_He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B_

Natasha was next, swinging vigorously with Bucky and looking, as always, perfect. Stark was heading for Darcy, who'd already gotten Steve in a death grip and was on her way to the dance floor. Fiona laughed as he scowled and got another drink.

 _A-toot, a-toot, a-toot-diddleyada-toot_  
_He blows it eight-to-the-bar, in boogie rhythm_  
_He can't blow a note unless the bass and guitar is playin' with him_  
_He makes the company jump when he plays reveille_  
_He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B_

Such a perfect night!

Steve couldn't seem to keep the grin off his face, and even Bucky would chuckle as the music made them share remembrances about the first time they snuck beer from Bucky's house. "Yeah, it took Rogers exactly half a can before he was skunk drunk and threw it back up," the Soldier said dryly, Fiona watched the flash of surprise cross his best friend's face. Another memory come home. 

They danced until the women pulled off their high heels, until everyone was sweating and laughing, and then they ate more cake until even Banner laughed that, "The big green guy inside is groaning 'No more, please!'" 

Taking another swig directly from the champagne bottle, Fiona stood up a little unsteadily. "All right, then. One more for the road, people. A slow one."  Swishing her hips to straighten her skirt a bit, she took a deep breath as she walked to her holographic backup band. This last song... she'd been practicing it while looking at sepia-toned pictures of 1940's Brooklyn, a few from the war, especially the promotional pictures of Steve and the few that included Bucky. She wanted this to be their best memory.

"Ladies and Gentleman, thanks again for joining us at the... uh... Stardust Lounge." Ignoring Darcy's drunken cackle but winking and flipping her the bird with her hand down by her skirt, Fiona continued. "I'd like to offer a final toast tonight- to the brave men and women in uniform from World War Two. May they now all be with the ones they love." Angling her glass towards Steve and Bucky, she smiled warmly, "And to the two brave men who came home to us. To Steve and Bucky."

There was a moment of sweet silence, broken only by a loud, watery sniff from Darcy, and then they all repeated in unison, "To Steve and Bucky."

 

"Our final dance tonight, find your partners," Fiona signaled her hologram musicians and the sweet strains of "I'll Be Seeing You" began.

 _"I'll be seeing you_  
_In all the old familiar places_  
_That this heart of mine embraces_  
_All day and through_  
_In that small cafe_  
_The park across the way_  
_The children's carousel_  
_The chestnut trees_  
_The wishing well..."_

She watched as Steve and Bucky looked at each other over the shoulders of their partners, love and longing on their handsome faces.

 _"I'll be seeing you_  
_In every lovely summer's day_  
_In everything that's light and gay_  
_I'll always think of you that way,"_

Banner blinked. He was suddenly standing on the boardwalk on Coney Island, watching his two friends walk past him, joking and laughing. He could smell the popcorn and cotton candy, the salt tang of the air. Everyone seemed so happy, so relaxed. Life seemed so uncomplicated here. That would be so wonderful, to be uncomplicated again. Darcy's head lifted from Bucky's shoulder, that music- her great grandma used to hum it, something about "Don't sit under the apple tree," or something? 

 _"_ _I'll find you in the morning sun_  
_And when the night is new_  
_I'll be looking at the moon_  
_But I'll be seeing you..."_

Steve could  _feel_ it- every moment, every memory of home, all the adventures he'd had with Bucky, the love of his mom and sister and even the awful taste of his asthma inhaler. Looking over at his best friend, he was swept with a tidal wave of love for the man trying to claw his way back to sanity for only one reason: because Steve begged him to. He was so absorbed that he didn't feel Natasha tremble a bit, feeling the unquestioning patriotism of two boys who had no idea that the war they volunteered for in 1943 would land them here in 2018. They were so _clean_ , these boys- their hearts, they still had a soul... 

And Stark, gently swaying with Jane felt the mad bustle of Manhattan, just across the bridge from James and Steve in Brooklyn. There was so much happening! He could feel thrill of so many new developments- so many innovations! And he saw his father, with a huge smile on his face with the sheer joy of creating something that had never existed before in this world. And Jane simply thought, "I miss Thor. So much."

 _"I'll be seeing you_  
_In every lovely summer's day_  
_In everything that's light and gay_  
_I'll always think of you that way..."_

Barnes was seeped in the warmth of his childhood again. Fiona's voice brought him effortlessly there for the first time in a lifetime of horror and memories lost. The taste of the first hot dog when the stands would open in spring on Coney Island. Laughing and bumping shoulders- carefully, though Steve never knew that- with his best friend. The face of grief and desperation on his face when Bucky lost his grip and fell from the train. But Steve never really lost his grip. He was always there as the tenuous thread that HYDRA couldn't snap.

 _"I'll find you in the morning sun_  
_And when the night is new_  
_I'll be looking at the moon_  
_But I'll be seeing you."_

As the exquisite, wistful strains of Fiona's voice faded away, everyone released their partner, but suddenly looked around and gathered each other in for a group hug. Smiling and teary-eyed, she watched happily until Steve broke free long enough to pull her into the arms of the others. She stiffened fearfully at first- it was a lot. There was _a lot_ of touching but she forced herself to relax into the embrace.

 

As everyone said goodnight, laughing a little louder than usual, big, silly grins that no one could seem to wipe off, Fiona felt like she'd done something right. Something good. She noticed that Bucky was hesitating by the door. 

"What's up? I think there's some cake left if you want to take it to your place and stash it in your fridge."

He shook his head, tucking his hands in his pockets and looking uncomfortable. "No, uh. Could you sing one more song?"

"Sure, any specific request?" Fiona asked, flicking the computer program for the holograms back on.

"Just something, bluesy I guess?" he asked, shrugging diffidently. As she smiled and nodded, he turned to call out to Steve, who actually had pilfered a huge chunk of cake on his way out. "Rogers. Hold up."

Steve came over with a smile. "What's going on?" Fiona squ'eed quietly inside and took the plate from him, setting it on the table.

Bucky chuckled, running his hand through his shaggy dark hair. "I never thought I'd be saying this, but- may I have this dance, Rogers?" He watched apprehensively as Steve's clear blue eyes widened, but then he nodded, taking Bucky's hand and walking to the center of the floor.

Trying to scamper soundlessly and not spoil the moment, Fiona darted to the mic and programmed the band. "Here's one of my favorites from Etta James," she said gently.

_"At last_  
_My love has come along_  
_My lonely days are over_  
_And life is like a song_  
  
_Oh yeah yeah_  
_At last_  
  
_The skies above are blue_  
_My heart was wrapped up in clover_  
_The night I looked at you_  
  
_I found a dream, that I could speak to_  
_A dream that I can call my own_  
_I found a thrill to press my cheek to_  
_A thrill that I have never known_  
  
_Oh yeah yeah_  
_You smiled, you smiled_  
_Oh and then the spell was cast_  
_And here we are in heaven_  
_For you are mine..._  
  
_At Last"_

Fiona's eyes were closed as she drew out the last, sweet notes of the song, and when she opened them, the two men's foreheads were pressed against each other, eyes closed with a look of simple happiness and homecoming. Tiptoeing out of the room, she made her way down to Loki's suite before she let out a huge breath as she shut the door. That was a good night. Turning into the main room, she groaned blissfully as she pulled off her heels, wiggling her toes.

"Hello, Kjæledyr. I see you've been busy."

Nearly choking on her gasp, Fiona whirled around to see Loki sitting in his huge chair by the window, his beautiful face lit by the city lights.

"Have you missed me, little girl?"

 

 

 

"Muk fecker!" loosely translated into "pig fucker" in Gaelic

"At Last," Etta James

"Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" Bette Midler

"I'll Be Seeing You" Billie Holiday

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized to my horror that this is my second chapter WITHOUT SMUT. What the hell? I promise and extra helping of Loki shagging in the next chapter to make up for it.
> 
> Also, I've never written a same-sex scene- I don't really have the experience or knowledge to pull that off. I've always thought these two would end up being the love of each other's lives and this union will heal them both. That said- I'm sorry, I totally see them both ending up with some lovely soul mate who totally gets their love for each other and they remain the closest and best of friends. Soooo... yeah. Just my thoughts.


	11. Fiona Meets The Black Widow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki comes home. And Fiona can't get no satisfaction.

Fiona stared at Loki's beautiful, pale face, trying to think of which emotion was fist-fighting with the others to get to the forefront of her scattered thoughts. Love and need? Fury? Hurt? Pride? As always, she defaulted to her factory setting.

Pissed off.

"You LEFT me! You- you- you just left me ALONE! You said you would be there and you left!" The expression of distaste on Loki's face was much as if she'd just thrown up on his expensive loafers again. Impotently, she threw one of her high heeled shoes at him, hissing when he caught it easily. God, this was so humiliating- letting all that out and letting this Asgardian jerkoff think she fucking cared about him! 

"Kjæledyr."

Loki's sweetest, deepest, most persuasive voice stopped Fiona just as she was about to stomp into the bedroom. Against her will, she could feel her steps slow, damnit, she wasn't the only one who could control others with her voice. "Don't want to hear it, _Daddy_. You were... mean!" Inwardly, she winced, yeah, that sounded like a mature, well-reasoned argument. She forced herself not to cringe when he slid his cool hands up her back and over her bare shoulders.

“I should not have left you alone, without saying goodbye.”

Fiona was glad she was facing away from her dark prince, because her jaw dropped. “Well, you did.” She tried twisting free of his hands, but Loki easily kept her still. “I heard that you’d gone from Steve. He had that stupid look that people get when they feel sorry for you for being so pathetic but don’t want to make you feel worse by showing they’re sorry for you.”

There was a short sigh behind her, and Loki’s arm looped around her waist, lifting and carrying the indignantly squirming girl to the bed and settling her on his lap with an iron grip. He was still wearing his armor, magnificent in green and bronze, even though the chestplate was scratching her bare shoulder. He calmly held Fiona as she kicked and thrashed for a while longer until she was still, angrily panting and feeling like all that cake and champagne might have been a bad idea.

“Are you ready to listen, my sweet girl?”

Folding her arms, she tried to angle away from him. “No,” she said churlishly. Hearing his chest shake against her as he laughed made her want to fight to get free again, but really, his arm was like a steel bar against her abdomen and she _had_ eaten quite a bit of cake. “ _Fine_ …” she sighed, going limp.

Easily lifting her and turning the girl to face him on his lap, Loki smiled as he smoothed back the hair that escaped her pretty updo while she was fighting him. "You looked exquisite tonight. I was very pleased with you."

Fiona leaned back to look at him more clearly. "Wait- you were there? At the party? Why didn't you join us?"

Loki was idly examining a long curl of her burgundy hair. "Suddenly arriving with Thor would have taken the attention off the Captain. This was his night, and your maneuvers with him and that monosyllabic thug were delicate enough."

Unwisely rolling her eyes, Fiona protested, "Bucky isn't a thug, he's- AH!" The infuriating god briskly upended her face down on his lap and after flipping up her skirts, gave her four sharp slaps on her ass.

"Did we forget the rules while Daddy was gone, Kjæledyr?" Moving her back into her original position, Loki smiled darkly as she angrily tightened her thighs to hover over instead of sitting on his lap. "Now, I believe I was in the middle of praising you for your excellent work with Rogers and the Soldier. This ambitious night will render them both far more relaxed and less difficult. Well done, darling."

He smiled as she relaxed just slightly into his hard chest, the leather and armor somehow comforting to her. "So..." she gestured at his magnificent battle dress, "all the fancy bits. Were you fighting or playing Prince?"

Chuckling, Loki took her hand, kissing each knuckle. "My idiot brother was sent to settle a dispute between Nidavellir and the Vanir over two insignificant satellite moons. However, Thor's concept of diplomacy is to hurl Mjölnir repeatedly until he's shattered half the Realm or plunged us into war. This time, he managed to do both within 48 hours- a new record, I believe." 

Fiona was listening raptly, open-mouthed. It was like sitting at the Round Table and listening to King Arthur speaking with his knights- except in this case one of the knights was an idiot who liked to pulverize things and then leave a mess for the King to clean up. "So, what happened? What did you do?" she prodded, not being able to help herself. "I'm sure it was fucking _epic!"_

"Language, darling," Loki didn't seem particularly displeased however, because he settled Fiona more comfortably on his lap and told her wild, fanciful tales of introducing a massive cave dragon to the fight, which resulted in a sudden disinterest from Vanaheim in continuing the hostilities, and how a Dwarf squadron of the majestic shield maidens agreed to relocate temporarily to assist the Vanir in creating a battle unit of their own. And how Thor was sent on a 24 hour drunken binge to celebrate his "skillful" handling of the problem as Odin's First-Born. He smiled down at his pretty songstress, listening intently with wide eyes and a huge grin planted on her face. "...and after the dwarves agreed to a yearly gift of the Blue Moonstones to the King of Vanaheim- an anemic, flimsy sort of royal, to be certain- hostilities ceased and the celebration Banquet of One Hundred Days began. I managed to fish Thor out from under one of the tables and throw him into the Sea of AleSoddn Angrer to force him to regain some sense of sobriety and... here we are."

The first, reddened rays of the sun were creeping over the skyscrapers as Loki finished, and Fiona shook herself. "All right," she agreed reluctantly. "That seems like it kept you pretty busy, especially the catching the dragon part and keeping it from setting everything on fire. But- what's this nonsense about the Feast of a Buttload of Days? You were only gone a week or so."

Her infuriating daddy was more interested in playing with the long curls having long ago escaped from Natasha's fancy 'do. "Time moves differently there, Kjæledyr. Particularly on the wandering moons."

"So..." Fiona shifted, looking at Loki's perfect, placid face. There was no sign of the brutality done to his fine-boned beauty, none of the scars or burn marks that she knew criss-crossed the left side of his face. "How long do _you_  feel like you were gone?"

His translucent gaze met hers then, and the prince smiled serenely. "Too long, lovely. And now you must sleep." He ran one finger down the bridge of her nose and Fiona was nearly out like a light. 

But just before she succumbed to his seidr, Fiona managed to whisper, "Thank you for the fairy tale. It was beautiful."

Loki's brow furrowed. "You do not think I speak of true events?"

She only smiled, tucking her head under his chin. "'Course not."

"Why, darling?" Loki stroked the back of his hand against the sweet, bare skin of her shoulder as he watched her.

"Because there's no such thing as happy endings, silly..."

Settling himself against the multitude of fluffy pillows in his bed- oh, how Fiona loved those pillows!- the dark prince simply held the girl, idly playing with her hair as he watched the sunrise over Manhattan.

 

Fiona woke up the next morning stiff and suspicious, her body already tensed and expecting her mercurial daddy to have disappeared again. But he was there, curled against her back and neatly encompassing her inside his long body. And... she smiled and blushed a bit, that delightful part of his was already hugely hard and pressing against the small of her back which was a gift from the Saints themselves because now that she was used to getting laid on the regular, AND from a man as spectacular in bed as this naughty Asgardian expatriate, it was good news indeed that they'd made up and could get back to business, so to speak. So, purring sleepily against her fluffy pillows, Fiona gently rotated her bottom against Loki's impressive staff of morning wood.

"Ahhhh... I see you're awake, you delicious little trollop." His pleased growl vibrated up Fiona's spine in a delightfully arousing way, so her hips swirled again. To her alarm, Loki's big hands gently stilled her movements and pulled away from her, rising to stretch and give her a deeply unfair view of his taut backside as he walked into the master bathroom. "You must get up, little girl. You cannot be late for training."

"Training??" Fiona angrily flopped back on the mattress. What the hell? She'd not seen her daddy in a week and this was the man/god who'd nailed her at least twice daily from the first time he'd wrestled her into his bed? "Really? Now?" she called after him, "But... you..."

Loki stepped back out, shedding his lounge pants as she heard the shower run. "You require me to repeat myself?" He didn't look particularly angry, but one brow arched warningly and Fiona glared back as she got out of bed. Her hopes for a joint shower were shut down as the bathroom door did the same.

The rest of the day went as scheduled, there was another briefing on the HYDRA cell in Russia, and Fiona doodled on her ipad, trying to figure out how many Russian terms she could memorize properly before they left. Loki was seated next to her, greeted in surprisingly warm tones by the rest of the team, who'd been filled in on the Vanir/Dwarf issue. To Fiona's mild shock, Thor actually gave his brother credit for handling the hostilities, something she suspected did not happen very often. It wasn't that the big blond was cruel, she mused, he's simply been raised with the understanding that he was the center of the universe and the future ruler of Asgard. Unfortunately, so had his darker brother. Fiona was a good listener- she'd been known to crouch by the door of her bedroom slash cell at Kahn's to gather information. So she knew enough of Loki's past to have understood that this was the rift that began her beautiful daddy's descent into hel.

“-That’s why you’ll be going in with the second sweep Fi, and-” Steve's voice died off as he realized she wasn't hearing him.

Head darting up to see the rest of the table was staring at her expectantly, Fiona cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, could you just repeat that last bit?”

It was Stark who actually rescued her in his usual, crass way. “Don’t worry about it Thunder Muffin,” Fiona barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes, actually seeing Loki’s hand rise slightly from the polished wood, “I’ve got to put together the specs and I’ll just send them over.” He snickered, “You’re probably all worn out after Reindeer Games coming home, so-”

That time, Fiona did roll her eyes, standing up. “Yeah, Slutty McSlutface, that’d be great.” She heard Bucky and Steve cover a laugh under a poorly timed cough and smiled as she walked out. To her great delight, while she got plenty of sleep last night, those two looked like four miles of bad road, as her gran used to say. The sad part? She thought bitterly, she was almost looking forward to Loki spanking her, since it usually led to something much more rewarding. It would be worth the crimson ass.

But to her enormous dismay, there was no manners-based retribution from her beautiful and confusing daddy. In fact, she didn’t see him again that day, other than a kiss to her temple as he murmured that he’s be locked up with Banner in the lab for most of the night. Slowly getting ready for bed, Fiona wondered why it felt as awful to sleep alone again. She’d done just fine while he was gone, but- the heartless bastard was _home_ now, why wouldn’t- Sitting down on the mattress, the girl realized that at some point in her state of captivity, Stark Tower had turned into home. Her first since her Da was killed.

Sometime during the night, Fiona felt rough fingers trailing across her cheek, sliding down her throat and circling one breast. Groggily opening her eyes, she sat up, but the bedroom was empty.

And so it continued for another 5 days, Loki kind, but stern. He actually made her sit back down at the breakfast table in front of an amused Bucky and an uncomfortable Bruce to finish her oatmeal and fruit plate. But he spent the vast majority of time in Banner’s lab, working with him on a device needed for the HYDRA raid. Fiona was desperate enough to deliberately misbehave, but other than a barely whispered, “That’s six, little girl,” there was no punishment from the infuriating prince. She brought them both dinner most nights because they didn’t leave the lab, but after thanking her for the food, they politely ushered her back out again.

“OW! FUCK!” Fiona wailed when a particularly hard kick to her midsection from Natasha sent her onto the mat and skidding back several feet. “What the HELL, Nat?”

Putting her hands on shapely hips, the Russian stared down at her. “Are you going to get your head back into this before the mission, or should I just shoot you now and save HYDRA the time?”

Fiona leaned back on her elbows, staring at her resentfully. That was _so_ unfair- she’d been spending all her extra Loki-free time studying Russian with the hateful redhead and putting her sexual frustration into training. Yanking her to her feet, Natasha gave her a stern look.

“I know you’ve been working your ass off- and really, Fi, your ass _is_ looking amazing by the way- your head is somewhere else.” Cocking her head as her friend looked down, Nat patted her arm. “What’s going on, дорогой?”

Fiona gazed at her. She knew to be called “friend” by the supremely guarded Russian was a true honor, but- she’d already discussed Loki’s scarring and felt like she’d betrayed his privacy. Talking about their sex life? That was a breach of epic proportions. So, she’d just keep her mouth shut, and-

“Loki won’t sleep with me!”

Pressing her full lips together in horror, Fiona looked guiltily at a clearly amused Natasha. Leaning back, the Russian pondered the situation. “I’m assuming this is since he and Thor got back from Asgard, since you two never shut up before then." Laughing at Fiona’s look of horror, she queried, “Seriously? You echoed up and down the hall. Bruce started sleeping in the lab.” Patting her friend’s leg, she soothed, “Don’t worry about it. The guys were all jealous as hell.”

Fiona’s face was buried between her knees, drawn up to her chest so her answer was muffled. “That doesn’t make me feel in the slightest bit better, Romanoff.”

“Men are simple creatures, Fi, even alien gods from other planets. There’s a reason you were cut off, and knowing Loki I’m quite sure it’s his fault.”

Fiona huffed, but didn’t actually agree out loud. It all felt so… (disloyal?) to be complaining about her secretive daddy.

Natasha looked at her sympathetically. “C’mon. The kitchen’s deserted this time of day and I know where Tony hid a caramel cheesecake.”

Sitting in the sun and plowing through a slice of the contraband dessert made the girls feel much better. And when Natasha finally put down her fork and leaned back she eyed Fiona speculatively. “Here’s what I think. You saw Loki naked, bare.”

The girl snorted, “Yeah, lots of times, and I appreciate everyone o’ them. So?”

“No, no- you’re not understanding me,” Natasha shook her head. “You walked in on him at his most exposed, no illusion to hide his scars and injuries. You saw him at his weakest. Loki thrives on being your omnipotent Daddy.” She ignored the flush of humiliation from her friend as she used the “D” word. "For him to show anything but strength to you has to be extremely jarring.”

“So that’s why he doesn’t want anything to do with me?” Fiona asked sadly.

“He’s proud. Stupidly so, like most men,” Natasha countered heartlessly. “But if you can be smooth enough to get Steve and Bucky together, you’re definitely capable of getting Loki back in bed. You just have to… finesse.”

“Huh?”

Natasha started laughing. “There’s the finesse I was hoping for! No, honey. Come over here.”

Suspiciously, Fiona rose and followed her over to one of the big, overstuffed chairs. Seating herself comfortably, the Russian gave her a sultry look. “With someone with control issues as big as Stark Tower, Loki’s someone who needs to think this is his idea. He has to think he’s taking you. But you showing how much you miss him is always a boost to the ego. I’m assuming you don’t put the moves on him that often?”

Shaking her head, Fiona admitted, “Um, I’ve never had to.”

“Figures,” muttered Natasha. “So you start by getting out of that catsuit and wearing one of those pretty dresses he buys for you, not your gym shorts. I’m actually surprised he let you go out in those godawful things, he must be really distracted. Anyway, at dinner tonight with everyone, you’re laughing, you’re talking to Bucky and Steve, you’re teasing Tony, you’re getting Bruce another serving of pie. You are still attentive to Loki, of course. I would suggest flirting with Thor, but I don’t think you have the stomach for it.” Looking at Fiona’s nauseated expression, “Yeah, maybe too far. Loki’s going to be worked up by the time you two are alone, and then, you’re sweet, a little needy. You delicately indicate that you’re suffering from a lack of his attentions.” Hastily, she put up a hand, “And since I know you, that doesn’t mean whining ‘Hey Daddy, I’m horny.’ That is not delicate.”

“Stop calling him my daddy.” Fiona groaned miserably.

Natasha patted her lap. "Sit on my lap, straddle me."

"I beg your pardon?" squeaked the girl. The Russian continued to stare at her sternly until she sighed and gingerly straddled her lap.

"Now. Put the tips of your fingers delicately on the side of my face and stroke my skin gently. Almost like a tickle. Picture Loki's whiskers rasping against your touch. Now, eye contact! You suck at this but you have to stare into his eyes- they're gorgeous, it won't be a chore- and communicate your need, your desire. Shall I demonstrate?"

"Uh..." this was so far out of Fiona's realm of experience that she just nodded blankly.

Slowly, deliberately, Natasha leaned in with a look of sultry intent, telegraphing her intent with a lick of her lips before just skating them over the girl's neck. Enjoying the little row of goosebumps that sprang up in her path, she whispered in Fiona's ear, "Now, feel that? Such a little touch." Her finger moved to the girl's chin and lifted her head again. "Eye contact, дорогой." Taking Fiona's hands, she slowly linked their fingers together. "So, since this is Loki and since you couldn't seduce him if you had a rare steak and a bullwhip-"

"HEY!"

"Whatever. I want you to picture this. He'll be surprised, perhaps a little rigid as you're toying with him. Since Loki's not getting laid either, he's got to be desperate too. You slowly telegraph what you need. He's your daddy, he'll like that." Natasha placed their linked hands on Fiona's hips, stroking lightly. Both sets of hips rocked, just slightly, and Natasha smiled. "Now, slide one hand up into his hair, I'll bet he loves that- the man's has to have a hair kink with a mane like that. Run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly..." Modeling the action, she smiled again as her friend shuddered slightly.

"Holy shite," gasped Fiona, "I'm getting schooled by the Black Widow right now, aren't I?"

"Mmmm, hm. Guaranteed to make a man into your helpless slave. It's all the little teasing touches that make the difference." To Fiona's alarm, the Widow's little hand reached out to the zipper of the girl's catsuit, inching the zipper down slowly, tooth by steel tooth. "Put your hands in my hair, now," she ordered. Doing as she was told, Fiona's slim fingers slid through the silky red curls, watching Natasha's lids droop appreciatively. "Perfect. I'm betting that Loki likes his tugged- a little, not hard until you're actually getting some." Laughing at her friend's groan, she urged, "Go on. Good. Now arch your back- you want to look tall and confident- and run your lips along my jawline. A little firmer, just a bit of tongue- good!"

 

Which was the precise moment Loki and Bruce walked in to the kitchen.

 

Putting his hands in the pockets of his tailored wool trousers, Loki watched for a moment. “Why, darling. It appears Natasha’s curriculum has entered the advanced stages.”

“You know what?” said Banner, “I’m really not that hungry after all, so…” he tried backing out, but Loki was still standing in the doorway.

“Kjæledyr,” he purred, “why don’t you join me for lunch in our suite, we’ll let these two get on with their day.”

Fiona was still frozen in horror, hands still buried in the deeply amused Widow’s hair. "Uh... okay." Awkwardly climbing off Natasha's lap, she smiled at her friend weakly before sidling past Bruce and out the door, Loki following close behind. The legendary Black Widow stretched elaborately and rose from the chair, sauntering over to the fridge. Picking out a pint of ice cream, she took a spoonful before smiling pleasantly at Banner, who'd not moved a muscle. 

As she left the kitchen, she threw him a wink. "You're welcome."

 

Knowing Loki was not one to talk while in the open areas of the Avenger's floor, Fiona kept her mouth shut until they entered their rooms. Watching as he casually took off his jacket- a lovely charcoal Armani- she shifted from foot to foot. When he finally settled himself in a chair, Loki smiled ominously and beckoned her with two fingers. "Come sit on Daddy's lap, baby."

Fiona walked over as slowly as she dared, alarmed at this unnaturally calm stranger who was inhabiting Loki's body. She tried to rest on his knee, but he neatly lifted and turned her to sit with her back to his chest, ass firmly nestled against his crotch. To her alarm, he placed her legs on the outside of his, already spread in his usual arrogant fashion.

"Now, darling. Do tell me about your day."

A weak puff of air left Fiona's lips. She was certain she was in trouble, but all she could think about was how good it felt to be pressed against him again, the hard planes of his chest and his big hands resting calmly on her thighs. "I... drank a horrible protein shake- as ordered," she snarked slightly. Shivering when she felt Loki's cool mouth on the back of her neck, her mind went blank.

"Go on, Kjæledyr." He was adding a bit of tongue as he slid along her skin, and Fiona stifled a whimper.

"Then I studied Russian with Natasha, and... uh..." His hands were sliding up and down her inner thighs, thumbs tantalizingly close to her painfully heated center.

"Continue. I did not give you permission to stop." His mouth _was right by her ear_ , the bastard! He knew what that did to her!

"When we were sp- sparring, she knocked me on my ass because I wasn't pay attention-" Fiona's voice suddenly pitched higher as one of Loki's hands moved to her front, slowly releasing her catsuit's zipper down to her belly button. 

His mouth returned to her ear as his fingers drifted inside the lycra covering. "Now, why would my good girl be distracted during such important tutelage?"

"It was just... um... girl talk?" Fiona desperately did not want to explain this to Loki, particularly when he was touching her for the first time in over two weeks. Because she was _dying_ for him to continue.

His fingers paused, cruelly, just over the line of her undies. "Really, what sort of 'girl talk?' I find myself quite intrigued."

Fiona put her hands over her face. She was so fucked.

"I'm going to help you, darling. Was Natasha imparting some of her legendary skills as a seductress?"

The girl's voice was small. "Kind of."

"Ah..." his deep voice hummed along her spine, making Fiona shift her hips without realizing it. "Was the Widow attempting to seduce my good girl? I believe not," Loki answered his own question, really beginning to enjoy this torment. "I've never seen you react to another woman in a sexual way, lovely. So, why would Romanoff have you perched on her lap in such a provocative fashion?" His fingers finally dipped lower and she let out a weak groan, blindly reaching back to slide her hand into his thick hair, grasping a fistful. His fingers began another leisurely circuit over the wet silk of her panties, putting a light pressure on the seam.

"I..." 

"We shall do this another way, Kjæledyr." Loki nuzzled along her jawline, then taking a sharp bite on her neck. "You will tell Daddy a story- a little fantasy, shall we say. What you might have attempted to do with your dangerous new knowledge." One finger slipped under her panties and slid partway into her channel. "Tell Daddy all about it and I shall let you come as many times as you can."

Fiona could feel the heat of him against the small of her back, his rigid cock making itself known. 'Oh, thank you Mother Mary and all the female Saints he's still into me!' "W- well I've just been- oh, _god!_ I've just been missing you so much and-" 'Be brave!' she lectured herself. "I know I've got no game, and-"

His free hand was now circling her nipple, pulling on it lightly. "I am unfamiliar with this saying."

"I don't know how to seduce you!" she blurted, sure her impending orgasm would be off the agenda, that he would be disgusted with her clumsy attempts.

Loki's finger slid deeper inside her, stroking his rough fingertip against the swollen tissue of her G spot, enjoying how her hips bucked. "I see. Well, continue on with your fantasy. I'm quite looking forward to it. Be brave, baby, and Daddy will make you feel all better."

"It's been two weeeks," Fiona moaned, her hips moving in the same rhythm as his finger strokes inside her, whimpering when he added a second finger. "I- I was going to dress up for you, try to uh... de- de- delicately show you how much I miss you. So I would try to catch you in a free moment, even if I had to get Jarvis to lock down our suite. Natasha said to flirt a little with the others-" His fingers stopped, and her knees tried to draw together but he pushed his thighs wider, parting hers as well. "But I was pretty sure I couldn't pull it off and if I did, it would not have the intended effect."

"Such a clever girl," Loki approved, beginning to press sucking kisses against her throat. "Go on." For added encouragement, he ground the heel of his hand down on her clit. Her hand in his hair yanked reflexively and he swallowed a groan. 

"I just wanted to perch on your lap and sink my hands into your hair- I love your hair," she moaned, "just... I don't know- smell you- you always smell so good, like pine, and frost. The smell of the wool of your suit and your skin. Hmmmm." Loki was moving between her breasts, plucking and pulling at her nipples. She could feel his breath coming faster by her ear, and it gave her confidence. "I was going to lift the skirt of my dress and put your hand there so you could see I wasn't wearing anything under it."

"Go on."

Loki's voice was guttural, and Fiona was seconds away from coming, so she spoke faster. "I would kiss and lick along your neck- that tight cord that stands out when you get turned on and- oh, GOD!"

Fiona's pussy spasmed hard against his fingers inside her, sparking a growl from him as he kept pushing them inside her, mercilessly drawing a second from her before stilling that hand. "Continue, baby. Tell me the rest."

"Then, I would unzip you and lay your pants open so I could pull you out. You'd be stiff- like marble like you are, like a sculpture and-" she keened in pleasure as his hand, on the move again, pulled a third orgasm from her. "I would put your beautiful cock inside me and slide down and I would try to keep eye contact but it would be really hard because it's been a while and you'd be huge, well, you're always huge and I can feel you there for hours after but you'd be, uh, huger. And you would feel soooo goo-" Erupting in a shriek, Fiona was startled as a rush of slick accompanied her fourth orgasm, soaking his shirt cuff and her catsuit.

"Beautiful," Loki said huskily. "Simply exquisite." He pulled his hand from her suit and licked each glistening finger with satisfaction as Fiona moaned, too overcome to be embarrassed. She was only half aware when she realized he'd waved away her suit and she was naked, resting against his fully clothed body except for his open pants, leaving his cock pressing hard against her. "Then go ahead." He lifted her hips and held his cock steady for her. Fiona flushed but still angled her pussy over him, sinking down with a moan of relief. "Such a good girl," he whispered, "now go ahead and ride Daddy. Take what you need, and then I'm going to throw you over this chair and hammer my cock so hard into you that you'll feel it in your throat. Go ahead, baby."

Fiona's thighs were strong after tortuous weeks of training and nutrition, and she used them to good effect as she began vigorously bouncing up and down. It hurt more than she expected, her moves pushing him higher up inside her than she was ready for, but she couldn't wait. He felt so _good_ \- this was perfection, this was homecoming. Loki was growling filth into her ear, biting her, helping her hips move and when she shattered against him, she drew her knees together, arching her back, every muscle tense as all she could think about was keeping him there- keeping him inside her and never letting him turn away from her again. 

Loki groaned as her muscles tensed to the point of pain, but loving the greedy pulse and squeeze of his Kjæledyr's cunt. She was shaking, and he grinned against the wet skin of her back as Fiona's hands clutched his thighs for balance. "My juicy, sweet slut," he purred, "so perfect." Gracefully shifting, he had Fiona bent over the arm of the chair and was behind her without his cock ever leaving her body. 

"Now, it's Daddy's turn."

Fiona actually screamed as he ruthlessly hoisted her hips higher and did just as threatened, hammering into her still pulsing channel, head back and enjoying the helpless, rhythmic squeeze of her around him. His hip bones banged bruises into her ass as he drove towards his finish. His strokes were becoming sloppy- shocking for Loki, who was always precise, even during fucking. "Now, little girl-" he blew a puff of air to blow his hair out of his eyes, "I require one more finish from your clutching cunt before Daddy comes." He enjoyed the sound of Fiona's startled shriek as he slapped her ass sharply, closing his eyes as her channel convulsed against him, then slapped her other cheek harder. His hand slid to her front, nestling two fingers against her swollen slit. "I've never slapped you here while I was inside you, your clit is so sweetly sensitive then, after you've come. But I'm going to do it now, and if you do not come immediately, I will not allow you release for a month."

"Daddy, I- I don't think-" Fiona's legs were dangling off the floor, she was holding on to the chair's opposite arm to keep from being driven face-first into it with his savage thrusts. 

"You can."

Loki slapped his fingers against her wet, silky clitoris. The shock and accompanying pain sent Fiona screaming into another finish, and her face into the chair, no longer able to support herself. He slid one arm across her chest, pulling Fiona back and against his chest and gave one last, brutal thrust up inside her, freezing with teeth clenched as he came and came. It seemed to go on for forever, and she felt the cool finish of him coat her heated tissues and slip from her plugged opening, running down her thighs and staining his suit. He rested his head against her sweaty neck, perversely enjoying the sheer _messiness_ of his human darling. "You've made me filthy, Kjæledyr," he whispered into her ear, "such a dirty, delicious little girl. Such a good girl for her Daddy."

 

 

 

 "Sea of AleSoddn Angrer" weakly translated from Norwegian to "The Sea of Ale-sodden Regret"


	12. Somebody To Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona finds somebody to love. And a lot of people to worship her. Which is not a bad thing, even if it's deep in the heart of a HYDRA stronghold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reference Loki's temple in Asgard in this chapter- and the vision is stolen completely from the magnificent misreall in her story "Sanctification." If you've not read it, you ARE SO MISSING OUT on the best readable orgasm of your life: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12337677

"Wait- this is a different mission?" 

Fiona was wise enough to moan internally, quite aware that her gigantic Daddy/Asgardian/Prince/sort of asshole was right next to her and listening intently. Shifting her feet, she sighed quietly. 'Yeah, because I _totally_ rocked that last one,' the girl reminded herself. Trying to cheer up, she thought, 'Well, maybe they won't bring me on this mission and nothing will explode.' But looking up at Loki, she couldn't help but think that being here and stewing with anxiety would be so much worse.

"So, Fiona, you and Loki will be doing the same partnership as the last mission, and-" Steve, who'd been attempting to lay out the plan, paused with his blue eyes wide, waiting for a response.

Sitting up straight and attempting to look like she'd been paying attention, the girl nodded wisely. Without even looking to her left, she knew that Loki was narrowing his piercing emerald eyes at her.

Steve wasn't convinced by her innocent act, either. "Fi, this is critical. We're going into a HYDRA stronghold to pull out prisoners. They're going to be weak, tortured. We need all the time we can to eliminate the guards and get these people. Do you understand?"

Suitably chastened, she nodded.

Stark was preening, just a little. "My new satellite trackers caught unusual movement at one of the Hydra's asshole associates. We've never been able to pin anything on him, but the new heat sensors showed multiple signatures underneath his estate. The arrogant fucker has prisoners stored in a bunker just under his living room!"

“Where is this new target?” This was from Loki, still seated with one arm on the couch over Fiona’s shoulders and legs spread, as usual, a mile wide.

Absently trying to juggle three vodka bottles like the bartender he'd hired for the last Stark gala, Tony answered, "Italy, and he's-" the rest was drowned out in the crash of one of the bottles against the slate surface of the bar, and with a negligent gesture, Loki sent the other two bottles floating serenely around his startled host's head.

Running his hand through his lovely blond hair, Steve finished the sentence. "Italy, the Isle of Capri to be specific." He ignored a stunned Tony, who was still staring up at the huge bottles of liquor hovering over him like the Sword of Damocles. "This was an easier insert than we expected.  Alessandro Russo's daughter Martina is turning 16. He's hired a very famous singer to perform at her party, and Loki will alter your appearance-" he nodded at Fiona again- "to look like the artist." Rogers consulted his iPad again, not really knowing many of the A-listers on this new music scene. "Pink? Is that right?"

Fiona's jaw dropped. "Get the fuck out! I get to be PINK?" Edging away from the suddenly cool surface of her Asgardian daddy, she knew her little profanity-laced outburst was going to cost her. Frowning, she asked, "How did he get someone like Pink to perform at something as pitiful as a sweet sixteen birthday bash? Why would she be such a gimp?"

Natasha answered her, the lines of her lip mouth clearly trying to stifle a laugh. "Money. Any artist will sing anywhere when they pick up a million dollars for one quick, intimate concert."

"What the hell?" Gasped Fiona, "Who would be that famous and still stoop to singing 'Happy Birthday' to a rasher of rich asshole kids?"

"Language!" groaned Steve, nervously scratching the back of his neck, "Apparently, someone like this Pink. So, you need to be her, all right?"

 

Later that night, Fiona was seated cross-legged on Loki's bed, watching a Pink HBO special and trying to memorize the singer's body movement and gestures as she sang.

"There's my good girl..." a pair of cool lips caressed her temple, and the girl tried not to jump.

"Why must you pop up like that?" Fiona groused, suddenly remembering her manners and hastily adding, "Uh, Daddy?" She leaned back against his hard chest as Loki slid gracefully in behind her.

He purred in her ear, making his redhead shiver a little. "Because you were so engrossed in your homework, darling. I'm very proud of you. Do you feel like you can confidently mimic her movements? Her voice?"

Fiona's cerulean eyes were narrowed in concentration, still following Pink's concert on the big screen in their living room. "Aye, she's a lot of fun, I can tell. The kinda girl who likes to let loose and tear it up."

He'd relaxed, letting her settle more comfortably against him, and she burrowed in with a little sigh. Running the tips of his long fingers up and down the skin of her bare arms, Loki murmured, "Sing something for me, little one. Become this Pink creature."

Fiona couldn't have said what drew her to this song, other than the stark beauty of watching the artist dangle elegantly in mid-air in a trapeze as she'd sung it, but she turned and straddled Loki, clicking the volume off on the TV. 

 _"Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?_  
_Close your eyes and trust it, just trust it_  
_Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?_  
_Have you ever looked fear in the face_  
_And said I just don't care?_

 _And it's only half past the point of no return_  
_The tip of the iceberg_  
_The sun before the burn_  
_The thunder before the lightning_  
_Breath before the phrase_  
_Have you ever felt this way?"_

The sweet, slightly sad tones in Fiona's lovely voice slid along Loki's nervous system, swelling some irritating tide of sorrow in his chest. 

 _"There you are, sitting in the garden_  
_Clutching my coffee,_  
_Calling me sugar_  
_You called me sugar..."_

Fiona's head drooped, and she placed a tender kiss along the pale skin of his temple, lips brushing over the silk of his hair. 

 _"Have you ever wished for an endless night?_  
_Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight_  
_Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself_  
_Will it ever get better than tonight?_  
_Tonight..."_

Unaccountably moved and deeply unsettled by it, Loki cut off her song by putting his mouth over hers, kissing the words away and cradling the back of her head in his hand. Turning them to put Fiona on her back, he found his fingers running gently down her face. She smiled, a unguarded and sweet one that made him close his eyes against it.

"I thought ya' weren't affected by my curse, Daddy?"

Forcing a chuckle, Loki looked down at her with his effortless blend of charm and condescension. "I am not, Sweetness. Now, let us remove these silly and confining undergarments..." The God of Lies was of course, absolutely convincing in his denial. To Fiona. But not to himself.

 

__________________________

 

The rest of the team sheared off at the private airstrip where the jet the Avengers used was housed. In the next hanger over was a flashy Bombardier Global 8000, and Stark steered Loki and Fiona towards it. "You'll have time to magic up Fiona into looking like Pink on the way to Capri," he mentioned, running his eyes lovingly along the sleek nose of the jet. "Just be ready to be met by Russo's goons at the airstrip. Fi will have time to practice with the backup musicians we pulled before the party."

"Where's the real Pink during all o' this?" Fiona asked curiously, climbing the steps to the open door of the jet. 

Tony shrugged. "Sleeping. Uh... taking a break. Thanks to the Stark Pharmaceuticals division, she'll never know she missed 48 hours until she wakes up. We couldn't take the risk of using her regular band, so we found replacements. Don't worry. These guys are experts. They can play anything you throw at them. Opera. Country Western. Speed Polka. You can't stump 'em."

She couldn't help it. Fiona scowled at him furiously. "Yeah. Wakin' up not knowing where she's been for two days. She's a _mom_ , you know." Ignoring him, she stalked into the jet, leaving Loki to raise a dark brow at a confused Stark.

Fiona settled in, obediently fastening her seat belt at Loki's command, looking blankly out the window as they took off, the luxury jet so effortless that they barely felt the wheels leave the tarmac. She knew he was watching her closely, that godawful stare that saw everything. Finally, she couldn't bear it.

_"What?"_

For once, her Asgardian Daddy didn't discipline her for the obviously insolent tone.

"What upsets you, Kjæledyr?"

Fiona's smooth brow furrowed, trying to express her rage. "She's gonna wake up, this Pink. Not knowin' what happened. Terrified about where her daughter is." Irritably pushing a heavy lock of hair out her face, she looked out the window. "Wonderin' if her lass was okay while she was... gone. And they won't care." She turned to look at Loki, suddenly angry at his expressionless face. "This time, even the rich and famous get fucked, eh? Who cares, as long as it's in the 'greater good.'" She mockingly made the quotation marks with her index fingers and looked out the window again, not even waiting to see if the dark prince would punish her for her burst of fury. To her surprise, Loki simply kissed the top of her head and left her alone.

 

\------------------------------- 

 

"How do you _do_ that?"

Eyeing her unfamiliar face and platinum hair in the jet's bathroom, Fiona pulled on some jeans and heavy black Doc Martins. It was the first time since Loki had imperiously taken over her life that she'd been able to wear either, and they felt wonderful. She enjoyed her new wardrobe even more when she caught his expression of distaste. Loki smoothed a hand down his chest and his Asgardian wear turned to a beige summer suit with an open necked cream colored dress shirt. His hair was short, a dark blonde with tinges of auburn and he was sporting a...

"Jaysus, Mary and Joseph! You're tan! And it looks good!" Fiona gleefully circled Loki, enjoying the change from his beautiful, pale skin. Unfairly, his new face was just as gorgeous. 

“Hush, you insolent creature,” Loki’s reproach was mild, however as he straightened his collar. “Now, darling. Do you feel ready to become Pink?”

Eyeing her shorter, sturdy body, Fiona hunched her shoulders. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

From there, it was easy. Sailing majestically off the jet with her “manager” in tow, she greeted the trio of functionaries from Russo. They ushered them into an ostentatiously huge limo and eagerly proffered at wide assortment of alcohol.

“Or perhaps you would care for a joint? Some coke?” One of the men pulled the suggested items from his suit jacket and Fiona stifled a laugh.

“Uh, maybe after the concert, dude.” Loki smothered a grin at her gleefully over-pronounced American accent. “Gotta stay sharp.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Certainly, Miss, uh, Pink.”

Fiona found herself wishing she could roll down one of the heavily tinted windows and stick her head out of the limo like an overexcited pooch. She'd traveled with that rat bastard Kahn, but she was hustled from Point A to Point B as quickly as possible and locked back into a room again. 'Maybe Loki and I can come back and...' Newly hazel eyes widened as she realized that for the first time, she was thinking about a future with the dark prince. The aforementioned royalty was busy checking his cellphone, another thing that made Fiona want to laugh. Loki despised the things, refused to carry one and wouldn't even allow her to show him some of the more impressive features that she was sure would change his mind about Midgardian technology. But it was a very manager-esque thing to do. The Russo estate- castle, by the looks of it- was majestically perched on top of the highest hill on the island, and Fiona's practiced eye could easily visualize room for an extensive series of tunnels and rooms underneath the sprawling villa. Swaggering up the stone steps and boots clomping obnoxiously, she turned on her jaded pop star performance. They allowed another group of excited flunkies to take them to the stage area, set up at the head of a ridiculously gigantic ballroom and still leaving room for at least 200-300 people to mingle and spill out onto the magnificent limestone terrace. The band was just as Stark promised, clearly veterans and launched easily into a soundcheck. Fiona eyed the four men, chewing her lip. The Adorables better have an exit plan for these innocents as well. She could just see the lycra-suited super-egos flying off and leaving these musicians to the none too tender mercies of the Hydra associates.

Zeke, the guitarist was walking her through the set list when she spotted "Glitter In The Air."

"Take that one out," Fiona said abruptly. The thought of Loki making what could conceivably be called love to her after she'd sung that song to him made it... special. She somehow cringed at the idea of singing it for these spoiled Italian teenagers.

"Yeah, but it's one of the birthday girl's favorites," he pressed.

Curling her lip in her best "I'm a pop star and you aren't," Fiona leaned closer. "Drop. It." Her steely gaze darted sideways when she heard a choking sort of noise from Loki. He was pressing his lips together in an effort to stay expressionless, and she felt a surge of pride she'd broken his seamless demeanor. "Jonathon!" she called out imperiously, "Join me in my dressing room." 

The minute the door closed, Loki had her hoisted up against it and her legs around his narrow waist. "Is my little princess forgetting who's in charge here?" he murmured right against her ear, knowing she would give that little shiver and goose bumps would rise along the thin skin of her neck.

"Never, Daddy," Fiona whispered back, daringly running the tip of her tongue along the whorls of his ear, then blowing a warm breath and grinning as his arms tightened. Maybe she was getting the hang of this seduction shite. Natasha would be so proud. Their pre-show tryst was abruptly cancelled when Loki's head went up and he listened intently to the miniature earpiece inserted deep enough to not be visible.

Finally glancing down at the girl as he set her back on her feet, he ran a quick sweep of the room with his cellphone held aloft. When the screen flashed green, Fiona grinned. "See? Bug-sweeper app. Told you our paltry Midgardian technology could surprise you."

They spent the rest of the hour going over the plan, and then going over the plan again. Keeping a tight rein on her desire to roll her eyes, Fiona nodded patiently. She'd memorized the mission plan until she was pretty sure it was carved into her cerebral cortex. The lives of those hostages depended on it. And having been one of them before, she damn well intended to do her part to get them out. Loki kept an extremely close eye on her as the girl got dressed into a little outfit that resembled that of a trapeze artist from the circus, along with fishnet stockings and those horrid boots. Adding screaming red lipstick, she gave him a smirk.

"Such a transformation, Kjæledyr. I do look forward to stripping it all from you afterwards." Enjoying her blush, he gave her a searing kiss that left Fiona grinning in a loose-lipped sort of way as she strutted out on the stage, waving back at the screaming party-goers.

"What the hell, man? What a gorgeous fuckin’ crowd! Where's my birthday girl?" 

A giggling girl was led up to the stage, dark-haired and very pretty and wearing a dress that cost more than Fiona's parents had made in their lifetime. Bantering with Martina playfully, she wondered if the girl knew her father was a monster. That he consorted with monsters. Forcing down her rage, Fiona sent Martina back to her friends after a round of "Happy Birthday" and uproarious applause.

"ARE YOU READY!"

"YES!" the crowd screamed back rapturously, and Fiona swung into her first song. Tony, who was working frantically to dismantle one of the security grids that transmitted to a satellite streaming information into three different ports in Russia,  grinned when he heard Fi's strong voice, capturing Pink fierce grittiness perfectly. "U + Ur Hand?" he mouthed, beginning to laugh silently.

 _"Check it out goin' out on the late night_  
_Lookin' tight feeling nice, it's a cock fight_  
_I can tell I just know that it's going down, tonight_  
_At the door we don't wait 'cause we know them_  
_At the bar six shots just beginnin'_  
_That's when dickhead put his hands on me_  
_But ya see..."_

Loki, backstage and situated perfectly so he could keep an eye on her every move, felt his cock begin to stir. Oh, yes. His darling was going for the jugular, the wealthy, entitled little monsters were already screaming rapturously, dancing and pressing closer to the stage.

They were beautiful!

They were young!

They owned the goddamn planet!

He could feel all the frenetic emotion coursing through these feeble-minded creatures, Fiona's words pouring into their empty heads and filling them with a wildly overwrought sense of self-importance and invincibility. His sharp gaze scanned the massive room, easily seeing- even in the darkness- the array of grim-faced security. He suspected they'd pulled a number of thugs from the dungeon below to watch over Russo's precious little spawn. Some were dancing in the crowd, trying to blend. Others, more brutal and well-worn didn't make the effort, patrolling the room.

 _"I'm not here for your entertainment_  
_You don't really wanna mess with me tonight_  
_Just stop and take a second_  
_I was fine before you walked into my life_  
_'Cause you know it's over, before it began_  
_Keep your drink just give me the money_  
_It's just you and your hand tonight"_

Fiona/Pink and Loki were both gratified to see they held the party guests in sway, but her eyes kept shifting over the security. They should have been affected by her singing, they should be swaying with the others- and a few were- but most held their posts, alert and unsmiling. This would not do. Taking a deep breath, Fiona pushed out the next song- "Get The Party Started"- with all of the persuasive energy of her siren's call. It pulled in a few more of the guards, but looking briefly at Loki's frown told her it wasn't enough. The concert was being piped through several of the security checkpoints to allow them to hear the concert- Russo's vanity would insist on everyone possible knowing that he was rich enough to pull off a Pink concert for his little princess.

"Loki." He gave a low grunt to indicate he heard Steve Rogers in his earpiece. "These guys- they're too alert for guys who are listening to Fiona's voice."

Stark broke in. "Maybe they've got special hearing protection? But that wouldn't make sense. Russo obviously wants to show off Pink hosting the party."

Fiona/Pink was listening in to the conversation as best as she could over the blaring instruments and screams of the crowd. Stopping to drink from a bottle of water, she turned her back to the crowd and murmured, "Same problem up here. Too many of these guys don't seem like they're even hearing me-" Pausing for a moment, she eyed some of the men. They were shifting from foot to foot, fiddling with their weapons or bouncing on the balls of their feet. Remembering the lackey's eager offer of drugs in the car, she cocked her head. "They're on something. Something stronger than coke, but..." Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the wildly rotating thoughts of the ugly men with guns holstered inside jackets so as not to scare the teenage partiers. "Whatever it is, it's pushing their brain patterns so fast they don't have a moment to hear me. Shite!" Launching into "Trouble," the girl tried to keep up with the rapidly escalating comments from the team. everyone frustrated at how alert the security still was. Dismantling the surveillance system was next to impossible with the guards paying such close attention.

 _"No attorneys_  
_To plead my case_  
_No orbits_  
_To send me into outta space_

 _And my fingers_  
_Are bejeweled_  
_With diamonds and gold_  
_But that ain't gonna help me now_

 _I'm trouble_  
_Yeah trouble now_  
_I'm trouble ya'll_  
_I disturb my town..."_

Fiona had never been more captivating: swirling, dipping, taunting the screaming teenagers with her poisonous, perfect voice. And while more and more of the security detail was slowly being drawn into her web, she still saw too many eyeing her and the crowd with suspicion.

 _"You think you're right_  
_But you were wrong_  
_You tried to take me_  
_But I knew all along_

  _You can take me_  
_For a ride_  
_I'm not a fool out_  
_So you better run and hide..."_

Coming out of a wildly dramatic twirl, Fiona/Pink looked up to see Loki stiffen, then narrow his eyes with intense concentration. She'd seen enough of his seiðr, to know he was rapidly deploying it. "What?" she mouthed at him, and his gaze cut left. 

Shit.

Alessandro Russo was standing just outside the terrace doors, wearing an angry frown and speaking with two men that the girl knew were Hydra. She'd seen those rat bastards before, laughing at her suffering when that monster Kahn owned her. Why wasn't her voice reaching these assholes? Stomping furiously in time to the chorus of "Trouble," Fiona/Pink suddenly noticed the more hardcore guards were beginning to sway obligingly, just the way they should. 

 "Loki," she murmured into her secure headset. "I think I can get them through the rhythm, make it vibrate through their bones, even if they're flying on whatever shite this is. Tell the team to give me two minutes." Her heart swelled when her eternally arrogant Daddy nodded immediately, showing his faith in her. Turning to the musicians, she cast frantically through her memory for one of the heaviest bass and drum-dominated tunes she knew. "Guys!" she said urgently, leaning into the band, "You know Queen, yeah? 'Somebody To Love?'" Smiling at their confused nods, she counted them down with steady snaps of her fingers while she addressed the sweating, dancing crowd.

“You beautiful bitches!" Fiona/Pink shouted, "I fucking love you, man! You wanna hear one of MY favorite songs?" Smiling maliciously at their screaming approval, she began stomping out the rhythm line as the keyboard player started the first strains of the tune. Her strong legs made the riser shake a bit as her Doc Martins tapped out a powerful signature that made the closest guards begin to glaze over.

Speaking rapidly into his speaker, Loki watched as his clever little Kjæledyr sent out a new wave of powerful, ruthless influence that began to vibrate through his bones. "So strong..." he chuckled approvingly.

_"Ooooooo... Can anybody find me_ _somebody to love_

_Ooh, each morning I get up I die a little_  
_Can barely stand on my feet_  
_(Take a look at yourself) Take a look in the mirror and cry (and cry)_  
_Lord what you're doing to me (yeah yeah)_  
_I have spent all my years in believing you_  
_But I just can't get no relief, Lord!_  
_Somebody (somebody) ooh somebody (somebody)_  
_Can anybody find me somebody to love?"_

 The whole team could _feel_ it, wherever they were in the vast reaches of the monstrous steel spiderweb beneath Russo's villa. The ugly souls blocking their way beginning to sway and hum, mildly silly smiles beginning to creep across scarred faces. Fiona was stomping her way through an oddly graceful tapdance that blended with the anthem from Freddie Mercury. Fiona's lovely voice was pushing out the majestic lyrics with every ounce of her persuasion, the rhythm she was thudding through the floor and the very bones of the building beginning to catch up with the Hydra operatives. 

_"I work hard (he works hard) every day of my life_

_I work till I ache in my bones_

_At the end (at the end of the day)_  
_I take home my hard earned pay all on my own_  
_I get down (down) on my knees (knees)_  
_And I start to pray_  
_Till the tears run down from my eyes_  
_Lord somebody (somebody), ooh somebody_  
_(Please) can anybody find me somebody to love?_

_Everyday (everyday) I try and I try and I try_  
_But everybody wants to put me down_  
_They say I'm going crazy_  
_They say I got a lot of water in my brain_  
_Ah, got no common sense_  
_I got nobody left to believe in..."_

 

Fiona's voice raised to that banshee-pitched wail that should level every soul within three miles as she tossed and turned her head, flailing dramatically.

_"Yeah yeah yeah yeah!"_

Beginning to stomp out an easily-followed pattern, the Caoineadh launched gleefully into the chanting of the bridge as her team members began tearing through the underground defenses like tissue paper, disrupting surveillance and tracking down the prisoners. There was little to no resistance, guards blank-faced and swaying, even the brutalized hostages obediently following like children as the Avengers freed them, leading them rapidly to the exits of their concrete hellhole.

Eyes darting through the crowd, Fiona/Pink could still see a few of Hydra's worst beginning to push through the crowds to the stage, trying not to alarm the wealthy guests but clearly intent on shutting the band down. Her glorious voice rang out then, pouring love and the need and desire to hug each other, to hold each other close with kisses and laughter- no matter who was next to them. Including the infuriated Hydra soldiers, who were under strict orders to not use their firearms.

_"Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love love love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Find me somebody to love_  
_Somebody somebody somebody somebody_  
_Somebody find me_  
_Somebody find me somebody to love_  
_Can anybody find me somebody to love?_  
_(Find me somebody to love)"_

Even the impenetrable stone floors were beginning to shake under the unified thudding of so many feet, and Fiona/Pink could see Loki's hands moving subtly, casting a glittering perimeter around her that no one else could seem to see as his stiff fingers would point at one guard or another, dropping them in their tracks.

"And now... to the finish!" She shouted, praying that the extra time gave her team mates the needed moments to free the hostages. "SING IT WITH ME, YOU BEAUTIFUL, CRAZY BITCHES!"

_"Find me, find me, find me somebody to love (find me somebody to love)_  
_Anybody, anywhere, anybody find me somebody to love love love!"_

Loki groaned as the spotlight centered on his Bánánach, making her a perfectly placed target. But then that _voice_ \- her glorious, swooping voice trilled gracefully up to the highest notes of the song.

_"Somebody toooooo... love..."_

Fiona's beautiful register was like a bird's, soaring and sailing over the crowd that screamed and reached for her, crying with love and happiness. The final notes of the song crashed grandly into the vast room as all 300 of the guests sang the finish with their idol, their goddess. Watching her, seeing the crowd melt at the altar of her music, Loki felt for the first time as if he was standing in Fiona’s temple, viewing her supplicants worship her. He enjoyed similar adoration in his own magnificent temple on Asgard, of course- but his fiery Midgardian commanded the same slavish deification from her own people. 

_His_ goddess...

Rapidly counting down in his head, Loki heard each of the Avengers check off their location as they made it to rendezvous spot safely, and he vibrated with the need to get his little girl- his precious goddess off that cursed stage and into his arms as he apparated them away. When the final check-in sounded from the rather battered-sounding Soldier, the dark prince strode out onto the stage, ignoring the singing, joyful worshippers at his Kjæledyr‘s feet as he took her arm.

”It is time, darling. Come with Daddy.” To his shock, Fiona dug in her booted heels, resisting him.

She pointed angrily at her somewhat dazed band. “Not without them.”

Her scary Daddy looked incredulous. Then menacing. “You do NOT say ‘no’ to me, little girl!” he growled, hand tightening on hers.

”Not without these guys!” Fiona snarled, gritting her teeth against the pain of his big fist unconsciously tightening against her skin, feeling delicate bones grind against each other. “Those fuckers will kill them, that’s certain. _After_ torture.” She was already struggling desperately against a cellular-deep need to please him, to see Loki smile at her in approval. The Soldier, hearing their verbal sparring and the closest to their location, turned around and hoofed it towards the ballroom.

Furiously jerking his head at the dazed musicians, Loki hissed a sibilant “Come!” The single word making the men drop their instruments and scramble to obey.

Speaking rapidly into his speaker, the Asgardian growled to the network about his four unwanted guests. "There in two," came the monotone of the Soldier. "Meet me outside the stage door." 

Meanwhile, the guards were slowly coming to their senses and realizing that the infuriating pop star had somehow disabled them. And that she was gone. As the six fugitives raced out the door, they could already hear the bullets smashing against the walls over the sudden screaming from the crowd. Loki was hissing and snarling curses sent behind them that diverted bullets and exploded men into gobbets of meat. 

"AH!" Fiona felt like a huge fist had just punched through her ribcage, and she flew forward, almost hitting the ground before Loki's supernatural speed swept her up. They suddenly apparated at the jet and she futilely pushed at his broad shoulder. "You have to go back and help Bucky and those men! Please, Daddy!"

Loki looked down at her and she almost cowered back. His eyes were like green fire, and he put a hand out to the torn flesh at her waistline.

"GO!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, and Natasha appeared at her side. 

Sliding her arm around the girl's bloody waist, she nodded to the menacing Loki. "I've got her, go help the others. I'll patch her up."

Seeing him waver, Stark activated his suit. "C'mon Reindeer Games. Just image how pissed off that Italian dick's going to be when he realizes we not only fucked up his baby's birthday party, but took all his toys, too."

Gratefully sagging against the Russian as the two men disappeared, Fiona let her friend help her into the jet, where Steve was rapidly activating the craft's shielding and flight status. Just as the high whine of the engines indicated they could take off, the ragged band members were more or less thrown into the cargo area, crowding in with the dazed hostages huddling together. They were followed rapidly by Loki and Barnes, who was bloody from a wound in his shoulder, close to his titanium arm. She could hear explosions outside the jet that told her Stark was raining hell down on their pursuers, and they were suddenly airborne, shooting into the night sky.

After about half an hour, the jet slowed long enough to open the cargo doors to allow Tony in. Fiona, who'd been dozing in Loki's arms looked up long enough to see Stark and smile sleepily. Her eyes drifted past him and widened in horror. "Shite! They're right behind us are you seeing this-" An explosion against the bulkhead knocked the rest of the words out of her mouth and sent her tumbling to the floor, rolling closer to the open door as the jet pitched and heaved from the strike. Steve turned the controls over to Natasha and raced back, trying to close the doors while Loki moved towards Fiona, a look of horror on his pale face. Another blast on the belly of the jet sent it spinning, and with a scream, Fiona was sucked out the cargo door, followed rapidly by Rogers and the Soldier. Stark managed to hit the button to close the bulkhead, sealing the rest of them in from the damaged jet body as an inhuman roar rose from Loki's chest as he bashed his fists against the reinforced steel, sending dents into metal as they struggled to right the plane.

"SHUT. UP!" Natasha yelled at the top of her furious voice, and it was not a pleasant tone. She had one hand pressed to her ear. "Bucky and Steve have her, they're about to hit a patch of trees and they're going to shield Fiona from the impact. They'll be okay. Those Hydra scum shooting at us were on our left side. They couldn't have seen them sucked out of the plane. They're safe. Now we have to ditch these scumbags before we can circle back. Strap in."

Loki's face could have been carved from marble, as pale and rigid as stone, except for the spark of madness forming in his eyes, which seemed to be- Natasha blinked. They couldn't have been red. It was a trick of light from their instrument panel.

"Sit. DOWN. Loki." His head turned like a snake's at an odd angle as he stared at her. Natasha breathed in. "We can't save Fiona until we get these guys off our tail. I need your help." Her logic finally seemed to reach him, and the prince nodded in a jerky, silted fashion and he sat, pulling the restraint over his chest.

 

_________________________________________

Oh, fuck. I'm gonna die.

As last thoughts went, it wasn't the most profound, but Fiona was twirling viciously in free fall, trying to orient and managing to hit herself in the face for her trouble. She'd gone first, so she didn't know that the two enhanced soldiers were sailing down to her, bodies rigid and arms at their sides, like human bullets. Fiona could see the green of a treeline racing up at her, and she closed her eyes. Green like Loki's eyes. She wished she'd had more time with him. In an infuriating burst of awareness, Fiona realized she loved him. She loved that arrogant Asgardian son of a bitch bossy-arsed know it all. And she'd never see-

"AH! OW!! FUCKER!"

The breath was knocked out of the girl as two huge and heavy figures suddenly smashed into her, surrounding her. Steve pressed tightly against her back and locked arms with Bucky, who was as close as he could get to Fiona's front without actually crawling inside her. His pale, blue-grey eyes softened as he smiled down at her. "You'll live!" he shouted in her ear against the howling rush of the wind. "We'll keep you safe, just don't let go of me, okay?"

Tears suddenly turned her eyes sapphire, but the girl nodded vigorously and buried her head in his chest. Bowing their heads against each other, the two super-soldiers gritted their teeth and braced for impact.

 

 

 

Note: I can't tell you the joy writing this story has given me. I'm finally writing about what matters most to me- music. If you like anything you've read here, let me give you the music credits:

 

 

 

Pink:

"Trouble"

"Glitter in the Air"

"U + Ur Hand"

 

Queen:

"Somebody To Love"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shifts uneasily* Okay, so I recognize this is a cliffhanger and I swear I did not intend that. But, Jesus, people! This monster is the longest chapter I've ever written and I got... you know... tired. Will it make you feel better if I tell you they're all just fine? And that the next chapter will feature angst and sweet, sweet loving? (Of course, I'm not telling you WHO'S getting the loving.) *laughs cruelly and runs away*


	13. "You've Suffered Worse."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona is saved, cared for, comforted. Unfortunately, not by Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy, Happy Easter dear friends! I hope the day's filled with relaxation, people you like (or avoiding the ones you can't stand) and of course, marshmallow Peeps. Lots of Peeps.

Fiona expected to be smashed into a pile of bones and blood when the oddly burrito-shaped trio began crashing through the treeline. But Steve and Bucky held themselves in a rigid cage around her, stoically taking most of the hits as they collided with one branch after another. Ironically, the beating also slowed the speed of their fall, which saved their lives.

However, the girl bit back a pained scream as a last, spiteful tree limb managed to gouge her, right where Loki had been healing the bullet wound she’d received from Russo’s men as they’d flown free from his murderous nest. Based on the flow of warmth wetting her now-ragged costume, it seemed likely her side was torn open again. But she couldn’t conceal a cry of agony as they landed harshly on the leafy floor of the forest, but it was abbreviated as all the air was promptly knocked from her lungs.

”Steady, child...” she’d always comforted herself in her Ma’s voice when she lay broken in Kahn’s cell. Fiona’s mother died rather suddenly when she 14- right as the girl began presenting her gift- or curse- depending on one’s point of view. But even nearly a decade later she still remembered Joycelynn’s voice: low and musical, spreading over her suffering like a healing balm. “You’ll be all right. Check on the Soldiers. They’ll need you.” Nodding mindlessly, Fiona rolled to her side, trying to catch her breath. Two ribs rubbed against each other in an ominously splintery sort of way, but she was alive.

”Jaysus Bucky! Hold off!”

Barnes was attempting to pull a jagged length of wood from his thick thigh, and Fiona slapped his hands away. “Lemme wrap it, ya gint! You dinna want to bleed out, do ye?” A rusty chuckle from behind them told her that Steve was alive, at least. She tried to turn to look at him and had to choke off another scream. Something was definitely dislocated on her left side. Ripping her fishnet stockings off awkwardly, she fashioned a tourniquet on Bucky’s leg as she called over her shoulder. “You gonna live long enough for me to patch up Lucky, here, Captain Astounding?”

”Probably Doll, if you stop making me laugh,” Steve groaned.

”You got one dark sense of humor, brother.” Focusing back on Barnes, she bit her lip and smiled encouragingly. “Ready now? I canna- I ain’t strong enough to pull it out. But I’ll pack the wound the second ya do it, all right?” She worried at the expression on his face- the blank, mindless Winter Soldier taking over.

Before she could even count to three, Barnes had torn the splintered branch from his leg, not making a sound. A somewhat battered black jacket appeared over her shoulder, and Fiona gratefully took it from Rogers to wrap around the bleeding wound. Tying it tightly and cringing a little, knowing it caused the Soldier even more pain, she took a deep breath and managed to turn to Steve without shrieking in agony.

“Come now…” it was her Ma’s voice again. “You’ve suffered far worse from Kahn. This is nothing.” Making an agreeing sort of noise, Fiona tried to push past her pain and focus on the other man who’d just kept her from being a bloody paste on the forest floor. His handsome face was gashed over the temple, bleeding profusely as head wounds do, but already slowing down. The awkward way his right arm was hanging told her it was fractured. Looking down helplessly at her tattered costume, Fiona cursed her lack of fabric for makeshift bandages. With a seamless grace, a t-shirt was thrust at her from Bucky’s metal arm. “Thanks,” she said absently, tearing it into strips with a little help from her teeth. Wrapping Steve’s head and making a sling for his arm, she sat back, suddenly dizzy from the adrenaline and blood loss.

“You can’t sleep, doll. Sorry.” It was Bucky’s turn to lead, and he put an arm around her waist and gently helped her up. When he brushed against her left shoulder, Fiona couldn’t hold back a moan of agony.

Looking her over knowledgeably, he nodded. “Your shoulder is dislocated. Can you be quiet while I set it? We don’t know who’s out here…” Fiona rolled her eyes elaborately, relishing a bit that at least Loki wasn’t here to correct her. As if this was the worst that had been done to her. Nodding and pressing her head against his neck, she felt a white flash behind her closed lids and convulsed as an electrical bolt of pain shot up her spine when he snapped her shoulder and arm back into the socket. Then she felt Bucky’s big hand against the back of her head, smoothing her hair. “You did good, Fi. Really good.”

Nodding, she tried to lean on one man while supporting the other, but all three somehow held each other up as they staggered through the trees. Fiona knew their enhanced vision could see well in the dark, but as one of the Bánánach, her vision was as clear at night as during the day. So she was the one who nudged them in the direction of a boarded-up cottage. The fencing around the structure had disintegrated into a pile of splinters and dust lay in thick piles on every surface, so they all felt confident no one had been there for years. Carefully pulling away enough boards from a back window to get them inside, Rogers replaced them again, blocking the glow of a little fire Fiona was making in the ashy hearth.

Trying to gather her wits, she brushed a wet hand over her forehead. “There’s a pump outside, could one of you get some water? The well water should be safe enough to drink, an'…” Idly, Fiona realized her hand was wet from the blood seeping from her side. She’d been holding her palm against the wound without really thinking why. She could just see the Soldier’s nostrils flare at the scent of blood when the room went dark and the girl gratefully slipped from consciousness.

 

Reluctantly surfacing from the comforting depths of her dreams, Fiona found herself once again sandwiched between both men, her wounds dressed and placed carefully on her left side and off the wound in her abdomen. The fire was still flickering in the little stone hearth, but she could see the first bits of daylight seeping around the boards over the windows. She didn't feel much other than the lovely warmth- being spooned from the back by Steve and Barnes cuddling up to her front. With a tiny smirk, she felt their arms thrown over her comfortingly, but holding each other's hand. Feeling her stir, the blue-gray eyes of the man facing her opened, looking her over as he smiled.

"How do you feel, doll? We tried to patch you up, get some of the dirt off you while you were out." Bucky was looking her over, a furrow of concern between his brows.

Stretching very, very carefully, Fiona winced but covered it up with a smile. "I feel much better, thank you, Ducky." She grinned when he rolled his eyes at her. 

"Really? I save your life and you're still giving me those idiot nicknames?"

Shrugging slightly, Fiona leered back. "It ain't my fault I canna remember all your silly Avenger titles."

From behind her, she could feel Steve's broad chest lurch as he laughed. "Liar. You just like busting our chops." Sobering, he leaned up on one elbow, examining her wounds carefully. "We're not the only ones that got enhanced, are we, Fi?" She could feel his warm hand run lightly along the curve of her waist, gently skating her wound. "This should have killed you- we weren't sure we were going to stop you from bleeding out." Rogers could feel her sudden rigidness, arching away from his hand.

"I'm fine." Fiona said shortly, "Thanks for fixing me up. It wasn't as bad as you think."

She resentfully watched the men meet each other's eyes before looking back to her. Bucky's voice was low when he said, "We both know what it's like to be picked apart, babydoll. Experimented on."

Steve broke in, "Nothing like Bucky and you- not for me! But I... we get it."

Fiona put her forehead against the Soldier's hugely muscled chest. She'd never discussed what was done to her behind those steel doors, not even with Loki. She never wanted to. But all the same her mouth suddenly opened and the girl blurted, "They accepted that I was... supernatural, I guess. But they were sure they could replicate it. Do it to someone else. They dinna understand the Baobhan Sith. We've lived for centuries. We'll be here when the world ends. But you canna... you canna make more." She shuddered, then winced at the pain. "But they tried. For years." She was humiliated to feel tears slip from her lashes, furious that the rat bastard Kahn and his merry band of fuckwits could still make her weep.

To her surprise, neither man spoke, simply running their hands over her arms and through her hair, stroking her soothingly as she cried. When she stopped, Bucky bent and kissed her cheek, making her look at him. "I think you're the bravest girl I've ever met."

Then it was Rogers who kissed her temple, smoothing back her wildly disordered curls. "Brave and good. You wouldn't leave without those musicians. I'm ashamed..." he paused uncomfortably, "I'm ashamed to admit none of us even thought about what would happen to them." He kissed her again, his warm lips on her cheekbone.

She was exhausted, in pain, and it felt so nice to be comforted, surrounded by these two powerful men who'd risked their own lives to protect hers. But Fiona felt a frisson of unease at the heat of Steve's mouth. A kiss should be cool... soothing the heated flush of her skin because it was Loki, and he... 

But they were both kissing her now, running their lips over scratches and bruises, making comforting noises and praising her. And Fiona was so tired, and everything hurt, like someone had gleefully taken a baseball bat to her. It felt so nice to be soothed and petted for a moment. When Bucky moved to her mouth, he paused for a moment, and she felt her hand slide into his long hair and grip it, pulling hard and loving the sudden groan he made. Then his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her sweetly, not mastering her like Loki would, but more like a shy exploration. And Steve’s hand was stroking through his lover’s hair too, fingers brushing along hers as he watched them run lips along each other, then gently turning Fiona’s head so he could kiss her, too.

That was the moment cold awareness froze her. The mouth of this man was strange- not unwelcome but not right. All Fiona could think of suddenly was straddling Loki the night before- Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, was it really just 24 hours ago?- when she’d sang to him and felt her mysterious Daddy make love to her. And it was love, no matter what he pretended. She _knew_. But it felt so good to be between them- comforted and protected. And Fiona found she couldn’t move her sore, battered body an inch, so she did the next best thing. Pulling her mouth from Steve’s, she smiled at him tenderly, seeing the sudden anxiety in those all-American blue eyes. Running a hand into his short hair, she gave it a playful tug, enjoying his involuntary groan and bringing his mouth to Bucky’s, stroking their hair and making low, encouraging sounds. The girl was completely out of her depth. She knew it. But the same feeling of love and the sense of knowing she’d done something good- like the night of Steve’s birthday party came back and Fiona smiled as they kissed each other, hesitantly at first, then more firmly, passionately. Pushing at the Soldier’s metal shoulder, she urged him to move over her to come face to face with the love of his life. Closing her eyes, Fiona tiredly stroked his bare back as the two lost soldiers from 1942 made love to each other.

“Doll?”

Fiona groaned and opened her eyes. She must have fallen asleep again… she thought vaguely as she sat up, Bucky’s hand on her back to hold her steady. “What time is it?” she yawned.

“Around noon,” he answered. The man was dressed back in his black mission gear, minus a shirt being used as a sling by Steve. “We just got a connection with the others, they’re going to be here in ten minutes. Let me help you up, and we’ll be ready to meet them and get you out of here, okay?”

Nodding sleepily, she still smiled up at him. “Thank you for saving my life. I am in your debt.”

Bucky was about to scoff, embarrassed at the praise, but the formal way Fi had spoken made him pause.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Thank… thank you.”

Giving him one last kiss, she breathed in the lovely scent of her Lost Boy. Barnes smelled like a baseball field after a rainstorm, Coney Island taffy apples and sadly, an ugly smear of blood and antiseptic. But that was fading. She ached with hope that one day, he would just be that boy again, the one with huge blue eyes who joined the military with an open heart and a desire to serve his country.

Balancing between the two men as the jet's engines flattened the tall grass around them, Fiona's breath caught like a sob in her throat when the first one off the craft was Loki- his hugely tall figure slicing through the countryside to wrap his arms around her, breathing her in and murmuring in her ear. "Sweetest one- I knew you had not perished, I knew you would-" He broke off as he put his nose against the thin skin of her throat. Pulling back, he lifted her gently into his arms and carried her to the jet and secured her into a comfortable seat. But he didn't look at her again. Not once during the flight back to Stark Tower.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm startled and fascinated the with varying reactions to Fiona's moment with the Bucky/Steve sandwich. When I wrote it, I envisioned it as three battered and brutalized people connecting with each other in comfort- though it obviously turned into something more for our favorite guys from the 1940's. Does Loki have the right to lose his shit? Maybe? Are Fiona's actions innocent and justifiable? Maybe? I really like reading your wildly different reactions, good food for thought, thank you.


	14. I Dare Far Greater Than You. Can. Imagine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki's rage is far greater than his self-control. And all the Avengers assemble... uselessly. And Fiona's the only one to see the big picture.

Despite neither speaking or looking at her on that miserable flight, Loki picked up Fiona as the quinjet landed and strode off the craft, apparating into Dr Banner's labs. Their super-soldier serum-enhanced bodies meant that Bucky and the Cap were nearly back up to full speed, but Loki had no idea what kind of healing capabilities his Kjæledyr employed. Fiona unstiffened slightly when she saw Bruce's kind, rumpled face light up at the sight of her. 

"There you are, kid! You did a great job with all the hostages- wow! And the band, nice work..." his praise died off a bit as he observed the dynamic between the girl and the hugely tall man hovering behind her. Loki was always more formidable when he was in Asgardian leather, versus his well-tailored dark suits from Midgard.

Fiona smiled weakly, she was horribly itchy from all the dried blood- hers and the soldier's- on her body and desperately wanted a shower. But she knew by her infuriating Daddy's tense stance that she wasn't going anywhere until he was satisfied as to the state of her health. "Thanks, doc. I'm all good, really. I just-"

"Fell through the sky and a forest of trees and then to earth. Is that all, little girl?" Loki's voice could have been chipped from ice, and it felt as jagged on her nerves.

"Really, I'm-"

Loki shifted just enough to block Banner's uncomfortable view of their "discussion." "You will sit quietly until the doctor is confident regarding your health."

Rubbing her tired eyes, the girl simply nodded. It wasn't worth the fight, especially since it looked like she might be gearing up for another one once they were alone. Despite not having practiced on anyone aside from his own genetic tinkering, Banner was surprisingly confident as he checked out Fiona, matching her vitals now to the ones he’d taken during her initial examination.

“It’s hard to believe it,” he shook his head, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his filthy lab coat, “but apparently getting sucked out of the quinjet and meeting every tree limb on your way down is highly beneficial to your health.” Bruce chuckled a little at his own joke, and Fiona forced a smile as she eased herself off her wounded side. She was recovering even more quickly than she expected, but the doctor still had to sew up her bullet wound- torn open again by her fall- and brace her splintered ribs. “I mean,” he continued, looking at the Asgardian’s unamused expression, even with the damage you took, your vitals look so much better. Your weight and muscle mass is up, the insane level of adrenocorticotropic hormones are down and your hypothalamus isn’t pumping out CRH by the gallon. How do you feel by your standards?”

Shrugging, Fiona mused, “Not bad, actually, all things considered…” she frowned as Loki gave a mocking huff behind her back but smiled as she hugged Bruce goodbye. It was completely platonic- Loki _had_ to know that, but she could feel the edges of a soundless growl vibrating along her spine.

Bruce- or his inner green self- recognized the undercurrent too and looked directly at Loki. "So, you'll use your seidr mojo to finish up her side, right?"

The other man barely gave a grunt of assent, but they nodded at each other before Fiona found herself picked up again and the lab vanished. She initially gave a little sigh of relief to find herself in Loki's quarters, but tried to stiffen her spine as the god brushed past her. She watched him walk into the huge master bath- all glistening white tile and thick, fluffy towels- and start the shower for her, making sure the water was warm enough before curtly gesturing to her.

"You need a shower, Kjæledyr. You stink of war, blood and other men's come." Loki's broad back was to her, but it only took a second for his head to spin around when Fiona slapped him with all of her strength. She winced as she felt three of her fingers break from the blow, but it was _worth_ it.

"How fuckin' dare you- ya bastard! Ya think-" The girl's breath sucked in between her teeth when he stepped closer, staring down at her as if he'd pulverize her into Fiona-paste and feed her to something loathsome. Her furious slap left a vivid handprint on his pale cheek, and his eyes began to glow red. 

"I dare, little bitch? Oh, I dare far greater than you. Can. Imagine." Each hissed word took the dark prince closer until she was backed against the wall. "It took one night for you to whore yourself to the Soldiers?" He chuckled cruelly. "Do you think they had any interest in you, other than using you as a sheath for their cocks, that they might pretend they were finally fucking each other? You were a flesh sleeve- a conduit for their lust." His pale, furious face drew closer, and she watched a blue sheen take over his face and hands. A chill was radiating off him and his cruel words came out in puffs of white vapor. "Nothing. Else."

Fiona felt like he'd hit her in the stomach- the breath knocked out of her and unable to pay attention to anything other than the transformation before her. Loki was a shapeshifter, she knew, but this... change or whatever seemed involuntary. Loki was growing taller, even broader and the wall behind then started cracking, the plaster freezing instantly and showing fractures. The prince's hair flowed over his shoulders and halfway down his back- his cheekbones higher, cruelly sharp and ridged marks spread rapidly over his face, down his neck and disappearing into his leather armor. One hand rose up, tipped with black talons and it gripped the back of her neck, yanking Fiona forward. She could hear the shower sputter and stop, sharp, loud cracks radiating through the room like the surface of a frozen lake settling into the polar state of winter. The blazing furnace of Loki's eyes was searing into her cerulean ones, wide and astonished. The Jotunn tilted his head, fury just slightly banked for a moment as he stared at her in some confusion. The child should be crying, begging and screaming for help, but she did nothing other than stare at him in complete fascination. The frost rapidly working up the window was beginning to crack them, astonishingly thick chunks of bulletproof glass breaking loose and falling down to the street below. Fiona could dimly hear some recorded voice- was that the JARVIS thingie?- rapidly uttering warnings over and over, but she couldn't tear her gaze from the sight before her, even when the indigo hands shot out to grasp her upper arms, lifting her level with his enraged stare. Some part of her was howling like the banshee she was, wanting to tear him apart down to the cellular level for saying such ugly things to her. But the rest- he was something new. Something beautiful even in his rage and anguish. And she couldn't stop watching it happen.

"BROTHER! You must stop immediately before you injure the lady Fiona and-" Dazed, she looked over as the door more or less exploded and Thor came striding through, waving Mjölnir, lightning crackling along his skin and hair.

Loki gave a wordless howl of fury and pushed out one arm sharply, hand flat and sending a percussive shock so powerful that it blew the God of Thunder out through the wall and into the hallway again. To his credit, Thor was up and back in the room as another window shattered as Tony's Iron Man suit burst in as well. Fiona's sharp hearing could hear the thud of more feet racing for the room and knew it was a matter of seconds before the entirety of Stark Tower would detonate into a trillion tiny particles of stone and electrical conduit.

Swooping like a furious falcon, Fiona's voice rolled and soared over the shouting and shattering of glass, causing Tony to drop to his knees, howling. Thor actually released Mjölnir from his fist as both hands desperately went over his ears and Loki- the God of Lies who the Cailleach- goddess to the British Isles and feared and worshipped for centuries- had suddenly accepted that she loved him desperately, suddenly looked down at the grip he had on her arms and dropped her. Backing up, Loki gazed around the huge room at the destruction and the trio staring back at him, and then down at his own, beautifully deep, midnight sky blue hands, and simply disappeared. Fiona, landing on the carpet and feeling one of those splintered ribs break again, gasped and put a hand to her side. Bucky and Steve were in the room by then, trying to help her up and shouting questions at her and the others and JARVIS was still warning about something shutting down the power grid-

With a subdued roar, the massive tower went black. There was utter silence for a moment.

"Well, _fuck._ " said Stark despondently, just audible over the whir of his suit shutting down.

 

Fiona had calmly stood up and walked down to her little apartment while the rest of the Avengers shouted questions at each other and the quickly re-booted JARVIS. She showered, leaning against the tile wall and closing her eyes. She was trying to remember her childhood, when everything was simple. She knew what her Ma was- hell, she couldn't have been more proud and secretly in awe when her Ma held her and whispered secrets in her ear of the time when she would become the Clíodhna for her people. It seemed to make sense when her beautiful mother spoke of it. This snarled, goddamned mess- she couldn't sing her way out of it. Couldn't make sense of it and for the love of all that was good and holy- she had no idea how to bring all these arguing arseholes together again. There was something much bigger than their petty little spats on the way. She felt it from the first time Loki's head rested against hers in sleep, or as they made love and his soul suddenly bared to hers. An' that stupid blue bastard loved her, that was certain. But the secrets he kept- Fiona shuddered, even in the hot water- those secrets could destroy them all. Destroy Midgard. Sink into the ley lines of the universe and crack it open like an egg. An' these stupid bastards were still whining that the lights weren't back on.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the shortness of this chapter. It feels like cheating you. But the next part is so radically different that I couldn't figure out how to smoosh them together. Sexy times on the way. Loki's got some serious ass-kissing... and other parts of the body kissing to do.


	15. Myths and Legends. And Apologies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which apologies are offered. And some are accepted. Some of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reader who mentioned that she's Irish felt that I've portrayed Fiona as an Irish caricature to a "cringe-worthy" degree. For this, I sincerely apologize. I base Fiona's language, her cadence and the way she drops the last letter of nearly every freaking word that comes out of her mouth on my Irish cousins and my uncles from Belfast. My lovely uncles never speak below the volume of a cannon going off next to you in Wembley Stadium and the drunker my WIC (White Irish Catholic, their label, not mine) relatives get, the thicker their accent. I love them with all my heart and soul. But I would not want anyone to feel I was attempting to portray their nationality in a mocking or disrespectful way. So, I hope you will understand my approach and forgive me if it doesn't mesh with your identity. That said, if I ever DO use something ugly or disrespectful, please let me know immediately. It will never be done intentionally.

Finally clean and her wounds attended to, Fiona ignored multiple knocks on her door until someone took a boot to it, the wood shaking under the force of the kicking.

“Fi! I’m not fucking around here! OPEN THE DOOR!”

It was Natasha, and the girl angrily loped over and ripped the door open dramatically. “WHAT!” Fiona shouted back, “What could POSSIBLY be so important that you couldn’t wait ‘till tomorrow! I fell out of a plane last night, you know!” Okay, that last part was laying it on a bit thick and she felt a little ashamed, seeing the Black Widow’s eyes narrow in concern.

Stepping into the room- and without permission of course, Fiona noticed irritably, Natasha bent to place a gentle hand on the bandage peeking out from the girl’s baggy sleep pants. “Bruce looked at this, right?” Her voice was Quiet and Soothing Natasha now, a tone Fiona recognized when the redhead was gentling down an upset and almost-green Banner or negotiating with someone just before she killed them. Since Fiona wasn’t sure what direction the Russian planned to take, she smiled tightly and scooted over to make room on her couch.

Fidgeting under Natasha's gaze, Fiona sighed and waited her out. This was possibly the most overwhelming 48 hours of her life- and given what she'd endured at Kahn's hands, that was saying something. She had to give it to her cat-suited buddy, she was good. Fiona was seconds away from cracking when Natasha finally said, "I know you too well to think you were the cheese in a Bucky and Cap sandwich, but that's the word around the tower." The furious gaze that shot to hers was the first time the Russian realized the Banshee wasn't always a hapless girl. Her usually vivid sky-blue eyes were the vicious gray-green of an ocean sweeping over drowning sailors and swamping boats.

"Yeah?" hissed Fiona, "Well, then fuck 'em all straight to hell. I did my job and my thanks is to be called the Avenger's whore?" She stood angrily from the couch and walked over to the door, ripping it open. "Goodnight Natasha."

The other redhead sighed, pushing back her elegant swoops of hair to deliver a deeply sincere and entreating gaze. "Honey, I just said I-" Natasha broke off as she felt an odd humming in the room, like a broken speaker or a misaligned computer tower. It grew steadily... louder? No, but she felt like the fillings were rattling in her teeth, the vibration jolting through her feet and shuddering in her bones in a horribly uncomfortable way. The feeling was ugly, making her shoulders hunch and feeling this vague sense of "go away get away go away get away..." run like some macabre soundtrack in her subconscious. Standing up without thinking about it, she headed for the exit. Fiona had already left her station as the unfriendly doorman and was walking towards her little bedroom. "Uh, talk to you tomorrow then, we'll... uh... spar..." Natasha's mouth felt clumsy, like she couldn't express that she was really concerned for the girl and already knew Loki had freaked out, like in a Hulk way but blue. And that she knew he'd disappeared and that Fiona was alone. But that sense of shuddering up her spine returned and her feet moved faster to take her away from there. "Go away get away go away get away go away get away..."

 

"Oh, fer FUCK'S SAKE!"

Fiona had just drifted off into sleep after hours of miserable contemplation about the horrors Loki kept locked in his brain and how much he despised her. Though traditionally the moment with Bucky and Steve would have made her cringe, it wasn't something she looked back on in embarrassment. 'We fell out of a JET, you arsebags!' she thought resentfully, flipping her pillow and trying to find the cool side. She'd felt itchy and overheated all day- the way her immune system did as it was working on overtime to restore the damage done to her. Fiona's thoughts went back to the delicious chill radiating off her... ('Daddy? Yeah, not likely any more...) off Loki as he'd started transforming in his rage. Some part of her had sensed he was in there- the blue man with the beautiful, ridged skin. Sometimes, when Loki was asleep she'd nestle next to him and delicately trace the whorls and curves of those lovely markings, like the living manifestation of the ley lines in the universe. They were there, just under his skin. Just like the scars from his piece o' shit Daddy and the... he... it... something so horrible that even in Loki's memories it existed only as a blackish/greyish shadow that hissed over his shoulder as he moaned and wept, scourged and broken to the immense pleasure of the monsters around him.

Of course, she'd never said a word to Loki about what she'd seen. The moment where his scars were visible after his battle in the glass atrium had hit her like a visceral punch to the stomach. His shame and fury were so palpable that she'd nearly choked on them. But the sight had for some reason opened his unconscious mind to hers. The parts she could bear, anyway. Just like he didn't need to know what happened to her in Kahn's labs. He already knew.

 

"LADY FIONA WE MUST SPEAK-" Thor's determined voice was escalating in volume, as his repetitive blows against her abused door became harder.

"I'm coming, ya' git! Hold off buggering my poor front door!" 

Angrily pulling a sweater over her thin tank top- Fiona was braless and there was no disguising it, and the last thing she wanted to tolerate was her 'daddy's' brother leering at her tits. Ripping open the poor plank of wood assigned the misfortune of being her door, she bellowed, "WHAT, NOW? FOR FUCK'S SAKE WHAT DOES THIS GROUP HAVE AGAINST A DECENT NIGHT'S REST?!"

Various groans and shouts of disapproval echoed up and down the hallway as Fiona sheepishly realized she effectively torn every resident on the floor from their sleep.

"Fine!" she hollered back, "Go ta' sleep!" Humming a few bars of 'Lullaby' didn't do it, so the girl sighed and pushed Thor into her room before clearing her throat. She could feel everyone's nerves ratcheting up to an adrenalized buzz, and no one was going to shut up until she made them.

_"Little fellow you're so tired_   
_You can hardly lift your head_   
_But you wanna hear a story_   
_Before you go to bed_   
_So if you'll be quiet_   
_And listen patiently_   
_I'll sing you a song_   
_That my mother sang to me..."_

Fiona rested her head on the doorway. She could remember so vividly her Da putting her to bed on nights her Ma was out, doing whatever mysterious thing her kind did. Her sweet Da- he didn't have a good voice, he couldn't hold a single note before it fell flat. But he still loved to sing. And this tune never failed to make his little girl sleep.

_Little cowgirl, put your saddle in the barn_   
_Tie your horse up tight, so he'll know no harm_   
_Put your hat and your gun_   
_Beside you on the chair_   
_Don't forget, you've got to say a little prayer_   
_Little cowgirl, you'd better hit the sandman trail_   
_Or you'll be late for roundup time you know_   
_If you wanna be a cowboy, you'd better rest a while_   
_Little cowgirl baby of the old corral_   
_Little cowgirl baby of the old corral..."_

As her sweet, tender voice trailed off, Fiona could hear the snores and snuffles of all the legendary occupants of her floor fast asleep. and even Thor was collapsed on her couch, rubbing his eyes.

"So yeah, okay. I'm here, you're here. What's up Gore, Prince of Good Hair and Impressive Weaponry?"

His exhausted blue eyes opened, "It's Thor, Lady Fi-"

"Eh, I'm sorry." Fiona collapsed on the leather cushion next to the God of Thunder. "I was just a little pissy. What's up, Thor?" She stubbornly refused to ask where his brother was, had they spoken, did Loki know he was a complete arsehole and that he tore off a strip of the heart she was sure was no longer beating after her hellish sentence with Kahn...

But Thor was talking. "You witnessed my brother's change, yet it did not seem to strike terror in you as it should."

She frowned at the huge blond. "What? Why would it-" and here, Fiona couldn't resist making the exaggerated quotation marks with her fingers, "strike terror in me?"

His earnest brow furrowed, and she could tell he was struggling with his words. Such a surprise. But Fiona held off mocking him. This being from the Bad Mamba Jamba Realm of We're Number One Motherfucker was deeply upset. "My brother... is not full Asgardian."

"Yeah, okay?" Fiona was trying to be calm and give Thor space. These big ones took a while to get to the point.

He leaned in a little. "You witnessed the change, Lady. He is half Jotnar."

Loki's brother continued talking, explaining the complexities of the relationships between the Nine Realms and the "Magnificent Battle And Utter Defeat Of The Blue Fiend Laufey And The Ice Monsters." Fiona kept nodding patiently and sipping a glass of good stout. She needed her wits about her but Thor's earnest and exhaustive explanation required a little something to keep her going. She recognized that from his point of view, the fact that an Aesir sleeping with a Jotunn was apparently A Big Fucking Deal, like the time her cousin Caitlyn off and married that handsome fella from Morocco and they had all those gorgeous babies. But it wasn't until she realized Loki was never told any of this and of course found out in the worst possible way that her simmering dislike of Odin turned into a full-blown hatred.

"Yer arsehole dad- Sorry Thor, but what the Hel? Yer dad never told Loki he was adopted, I mean holy shit who DOES that?" Fiona kept sipping her beer, finally getting up and pulling out the good stuff- the Redbreast and took a swig straight from the bottle before handing it to Thor as he finished the whole, horrible, sad, tragic, fucked-up tale. They both sat in silence for a while, absently handing the bottle back and forth before realizing it was empty, something they both regarded with some displeasure. So, the redhead got up and opened another one. Taking another healthy gulp and handing it to Thor as her eyes watered from the full force of the whiskey, she sighed and waited for the burn to fade. "Yeah. So yer brother has pretty much been fucked over by everyone in his life- even kind of you, Thor, though you totally redeemed yourself- and he pretty much plans on everyone fuckin' him over, like he thinks I did. Do I have most of it straight?"

She noticed with some satisfaction that Thor's superior alien metabolism wasn't saving him from the red-faced drunk currently manifesting on the blond giant.

"Yes, lady Fiona, it seems you do."

Watching his proud head droop, the girl felt a painful twist in her chest. "I'm sorry. You've been through Hel. You lost yer Ma, too, huh? Just like me. Like yer brother." Handing over the nearly empty bottle of Redbreast, Fiona watched with a mild sense of resentment as Thor finished it off. It was her last bottle, goddamnit.

Running his hands through his gloriously long and shampoo-commercial-wavy hair, he nodded. "I wanted to explain why- I know my brother was- uh- disrespectful to you-"

Sighing, Fiona pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, refusing to cry. "Yeah, well. Abandonment issues, an' all that. The good Lord knows I got 'em."

Thor straightened up, looking at her hopefully. "So... you'll forgive him, Lady? Know he meant no true harm?"

Snorting inelegantly, the redhead got up to look through the kitchen cupboards for more booze. Fortunately, there was a nearly-full bottle of Natasha's beloved Spirytus. Uncapping it, Fiona took a defiant swig and instantly lost her Irish drinking cred by spitting it out on the floor and coughing uncontrollably. Weakly handing the vile lighter fluid to Thor, she finished coughing the disgusting concoction out of her lungs. "Forgive? Ya' know what yer brother called me, right? That I was a flesh sleeve, fit only for a pitiful excuse for where their cocks really wanted to go?" Fiona angrily gritted her teeth shut. Even knowing Loki's past, even knowing what he thought he thought- it hurt so much more than she could explain.

To his credit, Thor actually blushed. Fiona's jaw dropped in a simpleton-ish expression as she watched it. "My brother's uh, 'gift'-" and here the God of Thunder actually raised two fingers on both hands as she had to make the quotation gesture- "for words extends deeply into the cruel side of the lexicon." He looked up at her wary face, "He says such unkind things- so ill-thought- and he cannot seem to make it right. But he loves you, lady Fiona. I see it. You surely must. Your forgiveness could be the saving of him."

Flopping back on the couch, a little bonelessly, the girl eyed him wearily. Taking the bottle of Spirytus from Thor's lax fingers and taking a determined gulp, Fiona wheezed as the noxious fluid made it's way down her abused trachea. "I will. Probably. But he's gonna pay for it first. It was... a rough time on the ground, Thor. We were all hurt real bad. I dinna think I would-" wiping her nose inelegantly, she made herself continue, "-ya know, make it. When the boys patched me up they put me between them to keep warm, that was all. But we were all so beat up, an'..." taking another drink, Fiona nearly coughed it back up, eyes watering. "We just kissed, is all. Bucky. I trust him, then Steve tried an' I knew it was all a mistake, so I lay there an' let them make love next to me. I fell asleep, so I dunna think I was the best third in this scenario. But I loved yer brother an' he smelled them on me I guess, an' never bothered to ask 'cause why would you ask some whore-" Angrily wiping her nose on the hem of her tank top, Fiona looked up as she heard the first snore from Thor's open mouth. Sighing, she stood unsteadily to yank a blanket off her bed, just managing to get it over his stupidly massive body before lurching into her bedroom and falling face-first into her mattress, unconscious and snoring louder than the God of Thunder.

 

It was the perfect combination of weightlessness and utter awareness of all life in the universe. It was a favorite spot of Loki's, just past Jotunheim and only a few subspace paces from Alfheim. His body- returned to it's Asgardian perfection- blandly watched the drunken discussion between his oaf of a brother and the heartless viper he'd begun to allow himself a certain... indulgence for. Loki was physically disgusted by the lurch his heart gave when Fiona cried as she admitted her utter perfidy with those meat-sack Soldiers. As if her weakness was allowance for- The God of Lies angrily gritted his teeth. The Caoineag had just ruined his last, restful space with her whining and drunken confessions. Sighing, he watched her tear-stained face lax into slumber.

 

"Wake up, you idiot children of Aeschylus."

Bucky and Rogers jolted into awareness, instantly furious that neither of them had sensed Loki entering their bedroom, watching their nude forms curl around each other in sleep. "What do you want, asshole?" the Soldier's voice was cold and vicious, remembering the blank misery on Fiona's face before she blasted the mainframe of Stark Tower apart to shut everyone up and cycle down the violence. 

"I want to know the truth, of course. And you, Soldier-" Loki sneered at an increasingly furious Barnes- "know as little of the meaning of the word as I do." His sharp gaze turned to the Cap, trying to rub the exhaustion from his cornflower blue eyes. "But you, Captain America..." the dark prince's voice dropped into a purr. "You cannot lie, can you?"

Steve forced himself to sit up, the sheet falling from his beautifully sculpted chest and his awareness barely registering a quick flash of appreciation from Loki before it was gone. Putting a gentle hand on Bucky's shoulder, he silently asked him to relax. "I don't know. I've never tried to lie, I guess. But I think I know what you want."

Loki leaned back against the couch by their bed, beautiful and indolent. "Yes?"

Sighing, the Captain shook his head. "Of course we didn't sleep with Fiona. Not because we didn't want to. We were beaten up so much by that fall... she bandaged us both before passing out from her blood loss. We put her between us to warm her up- you saw that shack! There was nothing else! But she let Bucky kiss her because she was so hurt and just wanted someone to be kind to her. But when I tried to kiss her-" Here, a vicious growl from Loki made him put his hand up, palm first in an attempt to calm the furious god. "When I tried, she turned me away and towards Bucky. We never touched her again." Gritting his even, white teeth but knowing it was the right thing to do, Steve Rogers stood naked from the bed and offered his outstretched hand to the slightly amused Asgardian. "My apologies. We would have never taken advantage of Fiona, even if she would have allowed us to. Despite all her..." Steve tried to find the words clogging his throat with the sense of having lost something precious, "...injuries and pain, she wouldn't take more comfort from us. She helped us comfort each other."

Loki still hadn't taken his outstretched hand, expressionless but for a glow in his eyes that showed he was not yet mollified. His gaze drifted over to the bed here Bucky sat, hands on huge thighs and feet planted on the floor. "You. Soldier. She paid for her rudeness when you shot her in the leg. The Banshee sang you two-" he nodded at a naked and suddenly aware of it, Steve, "-sang you two together. And you dishonor me like this?"

It was a fragile moment. Barnes already resented Loki. He hated how the Asgardian taunted Steve, how he suddenly swooped down on Fiona and seemed to own her, body and soul. He could see his friend's pleading expression behind Loki's shoulder, and sighing deeply, he stood- also shamelessly naked- and forced himself to offer his hand to the dark prince. Clearing his throat, Bucky managed, "We didn't intend to seduce Fiona. It wasn't... sex. About sex. It wasn't. It was trying to care care of each other. I apologize, Loki."

The tall, pale god loomed over him, then took his hand briefly before pulling away. "I accept your apology. Now the two of you may return to your amorous activity." 

"We were sleeping!" Steve said indignantly, flushing as Loki took another long look up and down their beautifully chiseled bodies.

"You know," he drawled, "Apollo had two young lovers he was particularly fond of. He brought them with him everywhere, always fondling each other. You two look remarkably like them."

Loki turned to go, and the Cap couldn't take it. "Wait? Wha- are you talking about Apollo- as in the mythical Greek God _Apollo?_ That's- really, that's a legend." He paused uncertainly, "Right?"

Steve was struck for a moment by the unearthly beauty of the man before them, taller, stronger than them- even enhanced. Loki's pale skin and thick ebony hair... and that smile. Knowing and malicious and... darn it, he was getting aroused.

The Prince of Asgard shrugged. "Norse legends say my brother and I are myths as well." And, maybe showing off just a tad, he winked out of sight.

 

Loki's next destination was the foot of Fiona's bed, watching the girl snore loudly and idly waving his hand in front of his nose to dissipate the almost physical alcohol haze she was releasing from every pore. One skinny arm was dangling off the bed and the redhead's cheek was smashed into her pillow. With a sigh, he gave an elegant flick of two fingers as a bottle of water and some little white pills appeared on her nightstand. His Kjæledyr would need them in the morning. Stepping out of the room, he gave his unconscious brother a disapproving stare. The gigantic oaf had blurted every filthy family secret to Fiona, desperate to get her to forgive Loki. Thor's snoring was thunderous. The couch vibrated slightly as the God of Thunder drew a hoarse gasp of air in and then bellowed it out. With a small grin of malice, Loki balanced a heavy lamp from the coffee table to directly over his brother's head, where when Thor would blearily sit up after waking, would smash his throbbing forehead right into it. Then with the satisfied air of a job well done, Loi apparated to his own rooms, where he lay awake, watching the sun rise and quietly furious that it was difficult to sleep without his little monster draped over him and breathing in his ear.

 

 

[Harry Nilsson - Little Cowboy](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/harrynilsson/littlecowboy.html) (My husband has sung this to every one of our children and my eyes still fill with tears thinking about it. I hope it guides you gently to sleep as well one restless night.)


	16. A Sky Full Of Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki does the unthinkable. He apologizes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this note of encouragement after watching Infinity Wars, but Hurricanerin expressed more beautifully in her last chapter of "I'll never tell:"  
> "We got this, guys. If Marvel fucks us over, that's on them. We know we have each other's backs and Loki will be the ever loving definition of immortal on here. Screw anyone that tries to write him differently."
> 
> Here's my comment, and I hope we all share the same feelings as Hurricanerin did: "Marvel can't stop us from loving our Tom, or our Loki. And our fear of his death in Avengers: Infinity War is somehow worse because his public decline after Ragnarok somehow intertwined the two of them so closely for us. No matter what the outcome, Loki is immortal. We can always write him better and more lovingly than all the typing monkeys at Marvel can."

When Fiona woke the next morning, Thor was gone, with an almost unintelligible note scrawled thanking her for "the libations and the hospitality." Rolling her eyes and regretting it instantly when her headache seared into overdrive, the girl groped through the kitchen finding the aspirin and shakily downing it with a gulp of orange juice. She knew the tower full of over-reactive supernannies weren't going to let her do anything that day anyway, so Fiona gratefully stumbled back to bed, flicking the blackout curtains shut with the little apartment's handy remote that operated nearly everything.

The nightmares began when she fell asleep again, but they weren't hers, they were Loki's. She was inside him somehow- skin burnt off his body, an agony a thousand times greater than she could have imagined, no matter what torment Kahn inflicted upon her. He had been chained to that rack, his beautiful blue skin seared from his body as he screamed, grown back, and burnt or flayed from him again. Things... she couldn't identify them, couldn't orient their shape as anything understandable but they crowded around her/him and hissed and spit acid and laughed at her/him. The pathetic, worthless spawn of the Jotunn and the laughable pawn of the Allfather. Worth nothing. To anyone. Pathetic.

Loki felt it first.

A dull rumble, the slightest shifting of the lighter items in the room. He’d been in one of the innumerable Stark Tower boardrooms listening to the rest of- what had his Kjæledyr called them? The Adorables?- recap the mission. Everyone paused as the trembling grew stronger.

“It’s an earthquake,” Banner was a Southern California native and nodded wisely.

Loki frowned, he could feel her twisting and moaning in the grip of- Without another sound, he disappeared from the room, making Tony yelp a little. “I hate it when he does that!” he groused, then tried to continue the meeting as the rumbling died down.

“Doan’ doan’ hurt him anymore, ya bastards! Stop! I’ll- I’ll fuck you UP an’ you better-”

“Little one, hush now…” Fiona stiffened as Loki’s cool hand ran down her cheek, his lovely, sonorous tone purring through her ear canal. “You are safe, my sweet Kjæledyr…” she was still thrashing, weeping softly and arching against his grasp.

"Please..." she sobbed, "doan' hurt him anymore... he's my... Loki doan'..." 

Loki's mouth touched her lips, her cheeks and eyelids, trying to soothe Fiona's anguish. "Sweetness, this is an echo of long past, I am here. We are both safe. Shhhh..."

Feeling the comfort of his cool lips against her flushed, wet face, the girl fought for some control. His frozen heart cracked a bit around the corners as she finally whispered, "Daddy?"

“Yes, my sweet girl. I am here.”

Had she been fully awake, perhaps never having seen the horror this god had endured, perhaps Fiona could have held against Loki’s tender ministrations and demanded an apology. But instead she curled her arms around his neck, stroking his thick, dark hair and attempting to stop crying. "I hate them," she wept. "I want them all to die. I'll hurt them..." The low rumbling began again and Loki eyed the heavy bed begin to shudder.

Kissing her deeply, persuasively, he murmured, "No, baby. You have done so well for me. Daddy is very pleased with you. No more bad dreams, now. Give me a nice kiss." Lifting her head obediently, his Fiona did, and with a slight sigh of relief Loki rolled her on top of him, cradling her cheek in his comforting, chilly hand as he directed her mouth against his again.

Blindly moving her hands against his hard leather armor, the girl moaned as she tried to free him from it. She needed the comforting cool of his body against her heated one to restore her equilibrium. "Take this off, Daddy. I need to feel you." Fiona felt the rumble of his chuckle against her breasts, but he did as she asked and waved a hand, suddenly bare against her. "Ohhh..." she sighed, still half-asleep, "that's better." He skin was so cool, so comforting against her flushed skin and sweaty face. Loki kissed her, tasting the salt of her fear and swiping it away with his tongue.

"No more bad dreams, Kjæledyr. Show me you have missed me inside you." His mouth was so close to her skin that Fiona could feel Loki's lips move against her throat. His hand went to hers then, placing it on his stiffened shaft and wrapping her fingers around him. Unlike the rest of him, this part of her Daddy was heated, swollen and hard. Moving her hand along the silky skin covering the granite strength of his cock, Fiona spread her legs, moving him closer to her. Loki's hands went to her hips, lifting her slightly as she gazed down at him sleepily, lips twisted in an absent smile. "Do you want me, little one?"

Fiona stilled, frowning. "Is this a trick question?"

The strength of his laughter actually pushed the wide head of him inside her, and the girl's back arched as she gasped pleasurably. "That's so good..." Fiona moaned, inner thighs tensing as he controlled her slow descent on to his cock. It was like they'd not been together for months, instead of 48 hours, and she bit her lower lip, concentrating on the slow throb of him moving up her channel. For a moment, it was all she could feel, sense, see, even taste. The sound of his breath, controlled but hissed between gritted teeth made her smile, her half-awake self sliding into just a bit of smug. Seeing this, Loki growled and rolled her underneath him, caging her with his elbows bracketing her face and strong thighs pushing hers wider.

"Ah, I see the insolent creature I've been taming is back?" he purred, ignoring her hiss. "Very well, let Daddy show you how much he has missed you." And Loki did, pressing his thin, chilly lips against hers, toying with her mouth as those unfairly agile hips began to slowly swoop, dip, then swirl as he pulled out of her, only to begin again. For a while, all Fiona could concentrate on was the slow widening of her insides, everything pushed aside to accommodate the dark Prince's spear, though Loki paused often, toying with her clitoris and kissing her nipples, telling Fiona in whispers what a " _Good_ girl she was, what a beautiful, courageous girl. How very proud Daddy was of his Kjæledyr.” The movement of his hard body against hers was so mesmerizing that it took Fiona a moment to realize they were rising slowly from the mattress, circling each other with legs wrapped around hips and hands and mouths roaming everywhere they could reach against the other. The luxurious weightlessness let one lazily take control, rising over the other as they thrust together, only to be replaced by the other in the slowest, most gentle of movements. The size of him inside her... Fiona's lashes fluttered as she shakily took a deep breath. Any other time, the depth of his penetration inside her would hurt, but here, with the leisurely, almost elegant movements, it seemed they simply melted into each other, difficult to tell where one piece of flesh began and the other ended.

Both legs gripping his lean hips as they made another rotation, Fiona moaned and shuddered as he made a particularly deep thrust. "Mmmmm... I swear by all the saints and demigods that I can feel you in my throat, Daddy." She shuddered against Loki's deep chuckle tickling against her painfully inflamed nerve endings.

"Oh, sweetness. I wish I could simply crawl inside you, feel you all around me as my greedy cock does," Loki whispered into her ear, his sonorous, compelling voice making a little orgasm shudder through her. "The tight, wet squeeze of you?" he groaned, which made Fiona do the same, and they both gasped at another hard thrust. "The rest of me craves what my selfish organ enjoys. The utter embrace of your tender, juicy quim, the shaking of your legs and the rigid tendons in your legs that hold me so closely inside you." His movements began to speed up, and Fiona gasped blissfully, nails digging into the smooth surface of his shoulders without realizing it. If Loki recognized the pain of the bloody half-moons on his pale, perfect skin he didn't show it, simply tightening his grip on the soft globes of her ass and moving Fiona more aggressively against him. "Now, my lovely girl, I want you to feel it..." Loki was panting now, his breath coming faster against her skin, Fiona could hear him beginning to pant. "...feel the way your satin walls hold me, caress my cock..." He leaned up for a moment with a dark and mischievous smile, licking along her collarbone and then lightly blowing on it, whispering something in another language that made the girl stiffen and gasp in shock,

Fiona could _feel_ it. Being inside his body as Loki thrust into hers, the weight and heat of him, how desperately her silky, slippery tissue fluttered against his cock as the dark Prince relished the softness of her, the stubborn strength and his Fiona's wide eyes- the color of the seaside on a summer holiday on a perfect sunny day, stared up at him in astonishment and perfect trust, knowing Loki would fling her consciousness carelessly into the farthest reaches of the universe and tenderly draw her back. Watching as her delightfully thick lashes- dark and fluttering like a lunar moth- Loki bent to her ear and whispered. "My sweet Kjæledyr, do you remember the song of the Bifrost? The one you tried to sing to me that night? Sing it for me now and we'll come together." He paused, rearing up over her and smiling, slightly chagrined as he admitted, "I... do not know it. Only you can recreate it."

Fiona's head was resting against his chest, shuddering in bliss and trying to hear what her beautiful, mysterious Daddy was asking for. The song... how to? As they floated, she realized they'd passed through the glass of the window of her room and were spiraling gently higher until the noise, light and polluted smell of Manhattan was gone, leaving them in utter silence, with a sudden spray of the constellations around them- Orion, the distinct "W" shape of Cassiopeia, the five stars of Lyra. And then the song was clear.

 _"'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_  
 _I'm gonna give you my heart_  
 _'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_  
 _'Cause you light up the path_  
  
_I don't care, go on and tear me apart_  
 _I don't care if you do, ooh_  
 _'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars_  
 _I think I saw you..."_

Loki's arms tightened around her- almost to the point of pain but Fiona welcomed it, grounding her and centering there in that perfect, teardrop of a moment with the beautiful, infuriating, glorious Asgardian God that she loved without hesitation. His shaft was moving smoothly through her as her legs tightened against the small of his back and his long fingers idly traced along her spine, feeling the vibration of her exquisite voice through his sensitive fingertips.

 _'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_  
 _I wanna die in your arms_  
 _'Cause you get lighter the more it gets dark_  
 _I'm gonna give you my heart_  
  
_I don't care, go on and tear me apart_  
 _I don't care if you do, ooh_  
 _'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars_  
 _I think I see you_  
 _I think I see you..."_

Barely hearing Loki's groan but overcome by the convulse pulse of his cock exploding inside her, Fiona gasped and came too, shuddering and trembling against him as the light winds moved around them, buffeting them one way, then the other as the two shook through the searing of their finish together. This time, however, it was Loki who wept, frigid tears that solidified into crystalline drops of ice against Fiona's skin as his body heaved against her.

"I love you, sweet Banshee. Forgive me. I did not keep you safe. I had no right to hate you for those who did." Loki's resonant tone was choked with emotion, but he managed to finish before Fiona kissed him.

"Thank you," she whispered, "but you already saved me. From the night you found me on that rooftop."

 

"Sky Full Of Stars," Coldplay

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I needed to write this tonight because it's important to know the love that brought us together for this lovely, brilliant, elusive man- is SO MUCH stronger than anything Marvel can ever write. So no matter what happens- NO SPOILERS HERe- fuck 'em. Our Loki lives forever.


	17. Girl's Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona attempts a "Girl's Night" with Natasha, Darcy and Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too lazy to tell you upcoming chapters might contain Avengers: Infinity War spoilers. If you're reading this, you love Loki. And if you love Loki, you've already seen it 3,006 times or can't bear to see it at all. So, um... there's your warning.

The nightmares began the next night.

 

It was hard for Fiona to tell who was having them, exactly- her, or Loki. She only knew they were terrifyingly vivid and sparked the same kind of horror she'd felt in Kahn's fetid grasp, but worse. So much worse. The... Thing, the It was there, vomiting slurred curses and threats in her ear, laughing at Loki's shuddering body, enjoying his screams as his beautiful blue skin was set ablaze again. And again. Or torn from him, piece by piece from some monstrous whip. The true horror of these nightmares was watching the Prince suffer. She wasn't physically tortured, but she was also barred from helping him. Her voice taken from her and Fiona could only weep soundlessly, fighting fiercely to try and reach him. The agony in his red eyes when he would see her scourged her- she could tell her presence made his torment worse. She would scream, and sing a high, furious anthem of hate and revenge but there was never anyone to suffer for it. Only her, and the torment of the god she loved. The shame of her witnessing it brutalized Loki. The shame of not being able to stop it scraped Fiona raw.

And it was the shame that separated them a bit, less lingering glances and sly smiles at their mutual pleasures. They still had sex, desperate encounters where Fiona would clutch at his perfect, smooth skin, wishing silently to feel the scars to know Loki trusted her, her beautiful, mercurial daddy. And the dark Prince would savage her, soothe her, fuck her so hard that Fiona would lose feeling in her legs and the next day would be difficult to hide what had been done to her. And Fiona would never have changed a thing. When Loki was inside her... they were absorbed, one into the other, senses shared and the wild arousal of experiencing that of the other would make them work harder to give the glorious feeling back, shared again until it was never certain where one body began and the other ended.

But during the day...

"Everything all right between you and the Prince of Darkness?" Natasha asked, the slight quirk at the corner of her full lips telling Fiona she was partly joking. But the girl wasn't in a joking mood.

"Don't call him that," she snarled, stabbing at the vile kale salad her horrid daddy had placed before her.

Natasha leaned back a bit at her friend's vicious tone, but she simply nodded and continued eating, telling Fiona about Tony's latest effort to prove he was the playboy of the tower- trying for a threesome with two giggling cocktail waitresses who fell asleep while he tried to get hard enough to impress them.

It was a entertaining recap, and Fiona unbent enough to laugh. "Maybe the man's wasting his time with all those big metal suits. Maybe something smaller and... rigid would be more helpful, eh?" Both of them burst into ridiculous giggles, and she took a deep breath, enjoying the first light-hearted moment in what felt like forever. 

Eyeing her keenly, the Russian leaned forward. "I've texted Darcy and Jane. We think it's time for a Girl's Night."

"Eh?" Fiona looked up, it had been so long since she'd had friends- a pack of girlfriends giggling and shrieking and driving her parents mad- though all the girls were welcome at their home, always invited to pull up a chair and share supper. She'd missed it so much in the lonely cells of Kahn's luxurious hell.

"Girl's Night," repeated Natasha, smiling at her meaningfully. "We need a break. All this testosterone is making my skin break out." Fiona howled with laughter, as she knew she would, and said she'd check with Loki. Pressing her perfect mouth tight to keep from making a snarky remark about "Daddies," Natasha simply nodded and told Fiona to be at her suite at eight sharp that night.

 

"Daddy."

They were having dinner together in their huge kitchen-dining room, and Loki had roasted something from home- Bilgesnap? Bilgesnipe? Something like that. Fiona thought it tasted like wild boar, which was still not good but at least recognizable, so she ate her portion and listened with pleasure as he unbent enough to tell her about hunting the beasts with Thor.

His eyes were beautiful tonight, he was fully relaxed and the color of jade so luminous. "Yes, darling?"

Fiona cleared her throat, drawing her fork through the Bilgesnap (Snipe?) sauce. "Natasha, Jane and Darcy are going out tonight- Girl's Night? So they invited me along and it sounded-"

Loki leaned back, steepling his fingers and watching her. "What is this Girl's Night?"

Warming to her memories, she smiled eagerly. "Well, ya know. There's times you wanna just let down yer hair and hang with your besties. Talk about men, clothes, girls you can't stand..." Fiona watched a slow smile grace his perfect mouth. "Gossip."

"Ah." His expression was like the old Loki, amused, slightly distant but indulgent. "It sounds quite like Thor's drunken evenings with the Warriors Three and Sif." Fiona, who had heard enough about what she called Thor's "idiot posse," gave a giggle. "I'll make certain then that you don't have to come drag me out of some whorehouse."

Her Prince's face actually split into a genuine chuckle. "I'd forgotten how good your memory is for misadventure."

"Specifically," she teased, "yours, Daddy." When they calmed a bit, Fiona ventured, "So, you're all good with it?"

Taking her hand and kissing each knuckle with a lovely, deliberate slowness, he nodded. "I look forward to your tale of drunken adventure." Loki stiffened slightly when Fiona impulsively threw her arms around him, but he put his around her back- not so skinny now, it had been some time since he could count the lumps of her spine- and gently returned the embrace.

 

"So how did you get your Big, Bad, Voodoo Daddy to let you out tonight?"

Fiona closed her eyes, tiredly. Trust Darcy to be the one to open her big, stupid mouth. "Don't call him that."

Finishing off her second Cosmo- it was "Buy One, Get Two Free" drink night at a fun little club near Stark Tower, and the bespeckled girl was intent on getting her money's worth. "Sorry, sweetie. But it's not a big secret in the Tower." Jane shifted uneasily next to her friend and Natasha bristled slightly on the other side of the table next to Fiona. It had taken all these weeks to pluck her friend free of Loki's grasp and this stupid intern was going to go after her this early in the evening?

Feeling the tension, the Irish girl forced herself to relax and smile. "Eh, forget that. I think we should address Tall, Dark and Delicious across the room who has his eye on my 'Tasha." Playfully turning to the amused redhead, she leered, "You want I go sing him flaccid? Because the boyo's already sporting a boner for you." A quick glance over their shoulders proved to the rest of the table that Fiona was quite correct, and they all burst into giggles. Turning to her beautiful friend, Fiona teased, "Aw, c'mon, girl! Unless he's setting off yer' spidey senses as a complete rat bastard, I think you should buy the man a drink." As it happened, the Russian didn't have to because the man- and his friend- stepped up to the table. The Natasha Admirer was holding a small glass of chilled vodka. 

"Miss Romanov?" he enquired politely, "I couldn't help but notice you sitting here. I wouldn't want to interrupt your night with your friends, but-" his nervous gaze swept the rest of the table and they all nodded at him encouragingly. "But you saved my brother during the Battle of New York, and I can't let this moment pass without thanking you..."

It was all the rest of the girls could do to not "oooo," and "ahhh," over the man's sweet introduction, and Natasha unbent enough to seize the little glass from his slack hand and toss the vodka back. Her eyes closed in pleasure and she hummed a bit. "Belver Bears," she sighed, "$7,000 a bottle and glorious. Thank you."

"Scott-" he held out his hand and the Russian graciously took it. "I would have been happy to purchase a glass of Russo-Baltique for you- but you know what happened to that, of course..."

"No!" gasped Natasha, and he launched into the story of the solid gold bottle of vodka on loan to a Danish bar, and after the two million dollar bottle went missing, was found empty on the lot of a nearby construction site. She was as horrified as someone else might be by the tale of a kidnapped tiger cub or a baby switched at birth in the hospital. His handsome companion, after initially attempting small talk with Fiona, courteously switched his attention to Darcy when the redhead made it clear she was taken. Jane scooted closer as the new foursome began exchanging stories. 

"It's nice to have someone to sit with who's also out of the dating game," she admitted, toying with her straw. Fiona eyed her a moment. She'd never really had the chance to chat with the tiny astrophysicist and the vision of this little thing trying to get down and dirty with the stupidly gigantic God of Thunder still squicked her out, but she smiled and made the best of it.

"An' where's Thor this fine evening while we girls get shitfaced?"

Jane's laugh was light and appealing, and Fiona could feel herself warm to this lovely thing. "I suspect doing exactly the same thing with your boyfriend-" the brunette's smile dimmed a bit, and she backtracked, "-that is what we call Loki, right?"

Trying not to feel offended, Fiona forced a smile and nodded. "I understand everyone suspectin' Loki of all manner of nefariousness, but the most alarming thing I've seen him do was rescue me after I got sucked out of S.H.I.E.L.D's jet."

Jane excitedly interrupted her. "I heard about that!" she gasped delightedly, "I've been dying to ask you so many things! What was the velocity of your fall? How did the Cap and Bucky hold you on impact? Why didn't you-"

Laughing, Fiona scooted away from the two new couples and quietly filled the delighted scientist in on the details.

"That's amazing..." Jane said dreamily, absently sketching mathematical notations on a napkin as Fiona finished the story. "So when they formed the crash cage around you, did-"

"Lesss talk, you bitches! More dancing!" Darcy was in fine form, and even the cold-blooded Natasha seemed unwilling to discourage her. With a sigh, Fiona and Jane stood to join them, and Scott smoothly stopped the girls from leaving the table. 

"Wait, ladies," he smiled winningly on them all, "a toast, if you would." A tray of tasty-looking shots suddenly appeared at the table and his friend quickly passed them out. "A toast to the lovely ladies of the Avengers, and thanks to you all for your good work!"

The glass halted halfway to Fiona's mouth and she watched the others raise theirs to the toast. How did he know they were all Avengers? Why would this Scott even say something like that? 

The others were about to raise the shots to their lips, and the song burst out from Fiona, still memorized from their mission in Italy.

" _At the bar six shots just beginnin'_  
_That's when dickhead put his hands on me_  
_But ya see_

_I'm not here for your entertainment_   
_You don't really wanna mess with me tonight_   
_Just stop and take a second_   
_I was fine before you walked into my life_   
_'Cause you know it's over, before it began_   
_Keep your drink just give me the money_   
_It's just you and your hand tonight..."_

She watched Scott and his friend's smiles fade, suddenly dark and furious as the other three women at the table stiffened, putting the shots back down on the table, eyes suddenly clearing. "Thanks, guys..." Darcy drunkenly interrupted her song, "but it's just the girls tonight, so thanks for the booze, but-"

"Excuse me?" the men were no longer charming, a cold, ugly shadow moving over their expressions and making Fiona's senses scream. Even the supremely suspicious Natasha was loose-limbed and not seeming to see a threat yet, though Fiona's song put her back into "No Boys" mode. "We just spent three thousand dollars in drinks for you, ladies!" Scott's voice drew out the last word insultingly. "And now you're too good for us? Really? Who do you think-"

_"You only just pretend to start something that you can end._  
_Sorry you're addicted to cruel_  
_Sorry has nothing to do with you_  
_Go on play your games cause I'm sorry_  
_I'm too good for you anyways..."_

Fiona's song was dark and just bordering on hostile. She could feel the silence fall on the cheerful chatter of the bar, but this was not going to happen. These fuckers were wrong, they were wrong and-

Scott's friend, who she'd dubbed "Asshole Wingman," pulled open his jacket to show a handgun. Leaning closer, he whispered, "I'm going to shoot this cunt with the glasses and then your short little bitch friend if you don't shut your fucking yap. We know what you are, bitch."

He should have known, Fiona thought absently, he should have known just who he was fucking with.

_"And do you think I give a fuck, belittle me that_  
 _Cause you in my hood and you dump into hell and back_  
 _This sinister shit, to hell with that_  
 _I seen them come, I seen them go_  
 _I doubt if you can show me something I ain't seen before_  
 _Who's supposed to be in charge, I need to know_  
 _When I shake your hand, I'mma step on your toe_  
 _Go get your gun, go get your clique_  
 _I'mma be right here chillin' with your bitch_  
 _You mad at me, cause I'm getting' rich?_  
 _Put the pistol to your head and empty the clip..."_

She could vaguely hear the screaming around her as both men yanked guns out of their shoulder holsters, but instead of pointing them at the girls, the barrels pressed firmly against their own foreheads, eyes wide and terrified at the hideous knowledge of what they were doing but unable to stop it. Even as she sang, Fiona's sharp eyes caught matching tattoos on their wrists, under their nice button-down cotton shirts. What was that symbol, that was...

"Hands up! NOW, lady!" Fiona's eyes closed in frustration. She was seconds away from singing "Fuck the Police," but it seemed like overkill with the plethora of blue suits around them, guns drawn on her.

 

It took all of Natasha's terrifying "I'm an Avenger bitch, and don't you forget it!” mojo to keep the confused officers from handcuffing Fiona, but after swiftly disarming the men, the Russian made NYPD's best handcuff them instead. 

"But what about... her?" One of the arresting officers was was trying to write a report, nodding over at a stone-faced Fiona. Natasha fixed him with her best, sultriest expression. 

"And why would you want to handcuff Fiona? I've told you she's a Stark Industries employee and very nearly a victim of these men as I was." The Russian was so reasonable, but she could tell by the clouded, confused expression that the officer thought he  _needed_  to arrest Fiona- he wanted to and he couldn't explain why. Some basic element in his lizard brain knew the girl was responsible and the redhead freaked him out, staring at him blandly.

Cerulean gaze turned to the door, Fiona sighed as Stark, Loki, Steve and Bucky barreled towards them. "Oh, good. The cavalry's arrived." To her disgust, Fury was hot on their heels. 

"What did... 'it' do now?" he asked, his single malevolent orb fixed on a sneering Fiona.

"She managed to single-handedly disable two Hydra operatives," snarled Loki, "and if you had the slightest sense of the brilliance of this woman you would be on your knees."

Fury gave an ugly snort. "Sounds like your big speech in Stuttgart, and we know how that turned out."

Surprisingly, it was Bucky who stepped in front of the director of S.H.I.E.L.D, menacing him with his sheer bulk. "You don't speak to them that way. They've done more to protect the Avengers than you will in your lifetime."

Fiona's brow rose. 'Daaaamn, Bucky,' she thought, 'proud of you.' It was no secret Fury despised the Winter Soldier as well, no matter how many times Rogers vouched for him. Meanwhile S.H.I.E.L.D operatives were busy making the Hydra thugs disappear and subtly threatening witnesses to make sure they'd not seen a thing. The redhead found Natasha in the group and pulled out a chair, sitting next to her.

"Another bar where we won't be welcomed back." the Russian said gloomily. Fiona's lips twitched, but she kept silent until her friend looked at her and cracked up. "Ah, well," Natasha said between giggles, "the booze at the tower's better anyway."

"So is the company," Fiona snarled, looking directly at Fury, who curled his lip in contempt.

Feeling Loki's cool, soothing hand on her shoulder, she instinctively rested her cheek against it, loving how it felt against the angry heat of her skin. "Come, little one," his beautiful voice soothed her, made her resentment less itchy, not as aggravating. "It's time to leave. Daddy will tuck you into bed."

 

That night's dream was the worst yet. Flames leapt all around them, spurting from the jagged black rock where Loki was pinned, screaming in agony as demons without shape tore him limb from limb, then reattached them, only to start again. Reaching desperately for him as one of the monstrous entities plucked Loki's beautiful emerald eye from his face and swallowed it, she finally found herself able to scream. 

"I'll do anything! Anything for you! Just... don't hurt him anymore." The Banshee's voice was choked with tears but it echoed across the barren, volcanic terrain. And to her horror, a voice answered her this time. A voice made up of a thousand screaming voices, screaming in death, in torture, in terror, all blended to a nauseating harmonic that made Fiona vomit convulsively. 

"Really..." the horror of the monstrous tone spread over her like burning tar. "How interesting."

 

 

 

"U and Ur Hand," Pink

"Kill Yourself," Timbaland

"Too Good For You (Sorry)" Sara Bareilles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story of the solid gold bottle of Russo-Baltique is real. The exquisitely rare bottle of like, zillion year old vodka was given on loan to a Danish bar, where some enterprising nitwit stole it and drank one of the rarest vintages in the world on a construction site with his buddies. The value of the bottle plummeted, and the insurance payout was atrocious. The bottle still rests in state in a collector’s safe as a sad remnants of the glory of Mother Russia’s premium Vodka.


	18. A Bedtime Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki takes Fiona on a picnic. And tells her a bedtime story about Marilena.
> 
> Trigger warnings: non-consensual activity and rape as torture. It's brief, and in the past. But I wanted to warn you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happiest of belated birthdays to our beautiful MyLeftHand! I am so very happy to count you as one of my blessings this year. You are a rare and beautiful soul.

The next day passed by in a haze of exhaustion. Fiona mechanically went through Russian lessons and sparring with Natasha, who cut the session short when her friend began stumbling, black circles of exhaustion under her eyes.

"Daddy Loki keeping you up late?"

Fiona rubbed her eyes, "Don't call him that."

The Russian sighed and ran her hand up the girl's arm. "What's going on, Fi?"

"I'm just not- I'm having nightmares and it's making it hard to want to go to sleep, knowing they're waiting for me." She knew how dramatic it sounded, but she couldn't think of another way to put it.

Frowning, Natasha crossed her legs, elbows on knees and bracing her as she leaned in to get a better look at Fiona. "For how long?"

"A while now," she admitted, "I think I'm pulling images, ya know, scraps of things from the past. But they're so... vivid. I canna forget them."

"Your past? From Kahn?"

Fiona shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck. Troubled eyes rose to the concerned ones of her friend. "Loki's past. With the... the It. Thing. Monster."

"Darling."

Both girls looked up to see Loki standing in the door of the gym, perfectly attired as always in his ebony Ralph Lauren bespoke suit. (Rumor held that when the handsome and gay Ralph Lauren first saw Loki standing magnificently nude and waiting to be measured for his custom line of suits, that he fell to his knees and offered the God of Mischief his multi-million dollar home in the Hamptons if Loki would spend one night with him. While enjoying the groveling, the dark prince was simply not in the mood that day to satisfy a new sycophant and indifferently waved him off. Loki also refused a ridiculously huge offer to name the Ralph Lauren new and alarmingly expensive suit line after him. However, it was quite obvious where the inspiration came from, because all the RL models advertising that brand were tall, dark and long-haired. The entire “RL Fantasies” line sold out in less than two weeks, worldwide.)

Rising, Fiona found herself smiling foolishly at his beautiful face. "Yes, Da- Loki?" Ignoring the strangled giggle from Natasha, she walked over to her wonderfully tall daddy, who leaned down to kiss her just under her ear, enjoying the little shiver she always gave.

Smiling down at her fondly, Loki took her hand. "I am taking you on a- they call it a picnic?"

Fiona was puzzled when their driver stopped on a New York street crowded with tall, elegant brownstones. "Aren't picnics in the middle of parks, or something?"

Pulling out a basket and then extending a hand to her, Loki corrected, "Ah, but we will be. Come along." She followed him on a narrow path between two of the sumptuous homes and to a black, wrought-iron gate. With a mysterious smile, he waved his hand over the lock and the heavy object swung open. Taking her hand again, he pulled Fiona along the path until the buildings ended and opened up into a beautiful little square of green, its boundaries the tall, wealthy homes around it and perfectly enclosed from the noise and crowds of the street. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she could almost think she was back home for a moment- the profusion of trees and flowers in this little microcosm of nature making the air gloriously fresh. 

"This is beautiful, daddy! Thank you. How did you find this?" Fiona opened the basket and tried not to giggle. Loki must have Googled "picnic," because there was the obligatory red-checkered tablecloth, along with china, silverware and a profusion of salads, cheeses, crusty rolls and sliced cold meats. She fluffed out the tablecloth and began laying out the food. 

Opening a bottle of wine, he poured her a glass, handing it over. "I’d been  _drøm vandre_ over the city, looking for the oldest sections. Where the British and Dutch began, I discovered this little place. They are called "pocket parks."

Fiona smiled into her glass of wine. She'd seen Loki seat himself in a chair in front of the massive windows in their Stark Tower suite and go very still- motionless save for the slight rise and fall of his chest. She knew he was "travelling" spectrally, she just didn't know what he called it. " _Drøm vandre_ , eh? I've always wondered where you went on your travels." Looking up as he raised his beautiful brow, she ventured, "Maybe you would let me join you sometime?"

Loki's dark brow rose. "You believe you can move through this realm?"

Shrugging, she leaned over and grabbed some grapes, popping one in her mouth. "We call it  _ag taisteal_ in the Baobhan Sith, but the concept is the same, it's certain. Though I can't Travel past the earth. I suppose you can sail through all the Nine Realms, eh?"

Loki's face went dark. "And beyond." A chill wind seemed to blow through the little park, and the birdsong faltered and stopped. His lean body straightened and he smiled down at her earnest, upturned face. "But that is not why we are here today, little one. Now, eat."

So, they did. It was delicious, made better by the lovely silence aside from the sounds of nature and the warmth of the sun. Blushing, Fiona fed an amused Loki grapes and then tiny, puffy eclairs at his urging, a tingle of warmth in her girl parts when he nipped at her fingers. Finally, he urged in his exquisite, sinful voice. "Now, I want you to lie back against the grass."

Dubiously eyeing all the windows looking down into park, Fiona asked, "Do you think we should be doing it here?"

His laughter flowed over her like a brush of feathers. "As much as I would enjoy baring your lovely body..." Loki's long, clever fingers were pushing up her shirt baring her stomach to the sun, "this is not the place." Leaning on one arm beside her, he ran his hand up and down her, calloused fingertips sliding over her skin. "Close your eyes, sweetness. Show me what you see."

It took her a moment to understand what Loki meant, and then Fiona nodded, taking his hand and putting it on her bared stomach, just over her first chakra. Vines of energy from the earth twirled eagerly into her, twining up her spine and rushing through her limbs, linking her to the ground. The ley lines roared to life under her, a foamy, glistening green, Nile green, the color of creation.

"Ah..."

Fiona smiled as Loki's hand convulsed on her, feeling the exhilarating rush of power from the ley lines under them. "Ya feeling it, daddy?"

"Indeed, little girl." He was grinning, she could feel his teeth against her throat, "Unprecedented." Loki could feel the wild energy of the planet race through his Clíodhna's cells, her nerves, the marrow in her bones. Fiona actually seemed to become lighter, almost weightless even while burdened mountain deep and oceans full of the sheer vibrating life from the ley lines below her.  Loki stiffened and almost moved away with her hand slid up to rest directly over his heart. He could feel it then, trillions of wildly dancing molecules, a fierce energy coating his heart and surrounding his soul, making the some of the broken bits of him feel whole again. "No darling, this is for you-" he tried to move away.

"An' I can share," Fiona countered, holding still and humming something light and lovely. When she was finished, the girl moved her hand to cup his cheek, laying silently beside him as his muscled chest heaved and a strange guttural sigh rose from him- releasing something dark and malignant into the air. Fiona's fingers fluttered like butterflies, waving through the fetid cloud of pitch until the air was clear again.

Loki finally broke the silence. "What was that charming little melody?" he questioned.

"Vivaldi," Fiona answered, rolling on to her stomach and propping herself with her elbows, "The Four Seasons, my favorite section is Spring. How did you know I needed this?” she questioned, laying her head on his chest.

Loki’s hand came up to absently card through her hair as he answered, “As your daddy, it is my duty and my great pleasure to know what you need. You have been deeply depleted sweetness, you required this restoration, and it was beautiful to watch.”

He was relaxed enough that Fiona finally dared ask him something she'd been puzzling over for the last week. “Why are you, Steve and Bucky suddenly best friends?” That was an overstatement, of course. But her dark and mysterious daddy had unbent enough the night before to have a drink with the others, even chuckling once or twice.

"They offered their apologies to me for touching you,” Loki said calmly.

Fiona shot up in a fury, “Apologize to you? What, for touching your stuff?  Like, what- like I'm a car they borrowed without permission?” Loki held her down without seeming to as she attempted to struggle free from him. It was an ungraceful effort, and she finally collapsed. “I'm not a thing,” she said crossly.

“No, you are not,” he said soothingly, placing a kiss on her shoulder and not exactly pinning her when Fiona attempted to shrug free. “Pet, these are men from the last century,” Loki said, “they understand the concept of honor. They saved your life, for which I owe them a debt. But...” his voice turned to ice, so crisp that Fiona gave a convulsive shudder. “They touched you,” he gritted out, “in a way that was lustful. That did not respect our bond, yours and mine. For this, they begged my pardon.”

She was dying to say something snarky and insulting, but remembering her last spanking and worse yet that night- that torment where he'd edged her 15 times without letting her come, and FIona just bit her lip. ‘Men,’ she thought resentfully, ‘such asses.’ But still, it had been such a perfect day and she was simply tremoring with power. Taking this beautiful man back to their suite in Stark Tower and letting him ravish her into too many orgasms to count seemed like the perfect end.

 

 _________________________________________________________

 

She dreamt differently that night, of a younger Loki who still carried hope in his eyes, a vulnerability she'd never seen. Fiona moaned in her sleep as she watching him dangling over the very bridge where they'd made love, where he'd held her as she wept and sang to him. But instead of the song of rebirth, she watched him let go. Watched him fall. Fiona was wailing and reaching out her hands in a desperate attempt to catch him when the older, harder version of himself shook her awake.

”You’ve seen it?” Loki’s voice was furious, cruel. 

There was no point in lying, he could always tell anyway. “Yes.”

He made a gritty sort of noise, an effort to clear a throat clogged with horror, self-disgust. “You should not. You should not see those things.”

Fiona’s ability to stay calm was being brutally tested. Weeping now would break a fragile connection that kept her Asgardian prince from shoving her away. “I want him to suffer,” she finally offered, a strange, flat tone to her musical voice. “I want him to hurt. I want it to be unbearable.” 

Loki sighed then, rolling Fiona over to encompass her stiff little body within his long arms. “I cannot fight with hate and betrayal. My old weapons. Thanos wields them with greater skill.”

She nodded, crimson curls sliding along his collarbone. She licked her lips, trying to think of what to say. Something that wouldn’t make her scream with rage and hate. “In... when... your time with that thing,” Fiona managed, “was there anything good? Any moment not... unspeakable?”

There was an exhale of relief. Something he could offer her, at least. 

"There was," he allowed. "At the very end, when Th..." Loki stopped, swallowing his stomach back down as it tried to escape from his throat. "Thanos was ready to release me, to rain Hel on Midgard. The last night when he allowed me to... to regain my body." He laughed cynically, "If not my sanity."

"What happened?" Fiona ventured, not touching him but desperately wanting to. As always, her dark prince seemed to know what she was feeling and ran one hand down the slope of her side, fingers trailing over the curve of her hip.

 

____________________________________________________________

 

_Loki's past POV_

The halls in the palace of Thanos were always silent. Silent save for the screams of agony, the begging for mercy that would never come, the gargling of blood coming from the lips of the tormented. But worse, was when Thanos spoke.

Loki remembered the time he and Thor slew a Muspelheim Conflagration Dragon- the creature's three weaving heads belched flame, boiling tar and lava, essentially guaranteeing any unfortunate that attempted to battle it would suffer an exceptionally horrifying death. Unless, of course, one was a god. Thor crushed one head while Loki sliced through the third. The second head let out a roar of such fury that the first line of their men instantly combusted- the screams of pain and horror shaking the bloodied ground beneath them. The sounds of the demon serpent, the nauseating scent of burning flesh, the unspeakable howling of the men they were sworn to lead- it was the most unbearable sensory experience of Loki's very long life- until the first time Thanos opened his mouth. It was the combined agony of the deaths of tormented souls, the screams of children, the gibbering of the mad, all tearing through his brain, his sanity. The searing of the Titan's voice was- of all the torture done to the prince- was the worst, the most unbearable. And this night- just hours before Loki was sent to unleash his fury on Midgard, Thanos had decided to give him a "gift."

"False Prince..." Loki swallowed down the gorge choking his throat. Thanos- every monstrous purple inch- was leaning forward on his throne, constructed from the compressed bones and sinew of a million victims. 

"My Lord." The words were sawdust in his mouth, but Loki bowed, humiliated at his terror.

"Before you leave to begin our destruction of the Nine Realms with that insignificant rock, I shall give you a reward. A token to show my satisfaction in your utter obeisance. Your pathetic desperation to please."

Loki's dark head was still lowered, he didn't dare raise it, didn't dare chance that his hatred glimmered in his gaze. So, he saw the body of his "reward" before her face.

The gut twisting horror of the Titan's voice registered again. "Whore. Present yourself to Prince Loki, my faithful servant.”

"My Prince." The girl’s voice was beautiful, and it echoed strangely off the blood soaked walls of the Titan’s throne room. Loki looked up to see her dark head bent submissively, as well as her shaking hands holding the thin silk of her dress.  

“Whore,” Thanos said indifferently, “take the Liar God and please him. I have no doubt you will do anything to make this happen.”  The Titan’s voice dipped lower at the end of the sentence, sounding like the insane, blood-soaked howl of an animal tearing out the throat out of another.

Loki would not characterize his gait as running, but he did follow the girl from the room with all speed. She was quick and silent, not saying a word and she led him through hall after hall and up two flights of stairs to a small room.  It was clearly intended to be a seductive lair, but the greasy silks hanging limp from the walls and the fetid smell of leftover fear and disgust made his newly repaired olfactory senses wrinkle his nose. She turned and attempted to smile.

“May I offer you a drink, my Lord?” Her smile was forced but held steady on her face as Loki looked her over curiously. She was slight in form, pretty breasts, pale skin and dark hair that glittered with tones of burgundy as it caught the light. But it was her eyes that captured his interest. Beautifully almond shaped and a glorious golden brown- the color of dark honey. The analogy to her sweetness was not lost on him, and Loki made a rusty sort of noise that almost sounded like a chuckle. It was the first time in what he imagined as his incalculable number of centuries in this Hel that such a sound would've ever been thought to be made.

”What is your name?” he finally asked, watching her squirm under his gaze.

It took her a minute to answer, as if she’d answered to ‘whore’ for so long she’d forgotten she had a name. “Marilena.” 

“Do you entertain all of the Titan’s... guests?” It was unkind, and Loki knew it. He just didn't care. He could feel the anger building in him, the clean, blissful strength of his rage beginning to surge through his body again. The festering hurt and resentment of his old life, the horror and disgust of his present and the vicious thirst for blood and death in the future beginning the following day. It ripped through him, giving him a glorious sense of power he had not had in any time past remembering. Reaching out casually, he lightly pushed her shoulder with one hand. The force was enough to send the girl flying across the room and onto the pile of velvet and fur on her bed. 

He watched Marilena freeze up, clenching her fists but not moving from where he'd pushed her. "Those to whom he assigns me," she answered, voice shaking just slightly.

Loki inclined his head, stalking around the bed. "I see. And what pleasures do you think you can offer me, darling?"

"Whatever is required," she answered, and knelt on the bed, loosening the tie on the shoulder of her gown. Loki watched as the silk fell to her waist, displaying those barely-covered breasts and showing them to be just as delectable as he'd imagined. The power of his fury tearing through him returned his seiðr, and Loki gloried in it, waving one hand to remove his leather clothing and display his pale cock, already roused and hard and beautifully sleek. To his mild surprise, her lovely almond eyes widened in- fear? Alarm? As she looked at him. Surely, a creature with her carnal experience...

Shrugging, Loki crawled over her, his emerald gaze glittering and a dark smile frozen over his thin lips. "Then you will forgive me if I take my satisfaction quickly this first time-" he didn't miss how the blood drained from her creamy skin at the phrasing, "-before we settle in for more perverse pleasures." Her eyes were wide with fear, but Marilena rested back against her pillows without argument. Groaning in pleasure, Loki's mouth swept between one breast, then the other, teasing the tawny-colored nubs into hardness as his wicked tongue flickered and nipped over her flesh. "Delicious..." he murmured, squeezing one breast as his mouth toyed with the other. Hesitantly, the girl's hands came up to his shoulders, stroking along the painfully sculpted muscle, not a shred of fat or padding to smooth the harsh lines. Dimly, he registered the feel of her warm little hands on his skin, stroking him gently in contrast to the harshness he was applying to her sensitive breasts. Even though Loki heard Marilena's breath hitch when he sucked harder, she didn't complain, still calmly smoothing her hands over his hard angles. It was when Loki positioned his excruciatingly hard cock at her entrance where the girl underneath him stiffened, clearly startled. Enjoying how her breath came faster, he loomed over her, grinning cruelly at her alarmed expression. "Why are you frightened, dove? Surely I cannot be more repellent than the guards here in this Hel..." But when he began shoving his shaft inside her, Loki froze, feeling the barrier that clearly showed this girl was-

"You're a virgin?" Brows drawn together, he halted, looking down at her. "How can a whore be a maiden?"

With a growl of fury, Marilena shoved at him- hard and forcing his cock from her passage. "A whore can be a maiden when her master uses her as torment, not for satisfaction! I am no whore!" Pulling her gown back up, she scooted away from him, resting defensively against the headboard of the bed.

Loki breathed in deeply, trying to calm his frenzied need to push into this girl- to breed her and fuck her and- it had been so long since his broken and battered body had felt lust, thought lost forever when the monsters tormenting him had gleefully sodomized him. And here this lovely creature was... but it was a trick. It had to be. Who threw a virgin at a loathsome thing like him? "Explain, darling," he managed, lacing his pants together.

"I am- I didn't think-" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "The King's guards are usually here by now, dragging out whatever poor soul he'd 'given' me to," Marilena said with a touch of sarcasm. "He used me to taunt them with what they could have had- what they had enjoyed as men- before he destroyed them here."

Nodding, Loki agreed. It made perfect sense. Offer this sweet and lovely girl to a man, and then tear her away, proving they were unworthy of such a gift. Dragged away with a hard cock and a desperation to use it that would be denied. Brilliant torment. He relaxed back, waiting for Thanos's creatures to come pushing into the room, dragging him away from this lovely girl, the only thing of beauty inside this fetid cage. They both waited, finally beginning to shift and move uneasily as no one came. "Why am I not being taken from you, lovely? Screaming in my feral need to breed you?" Loki's tone was mocking, but he was as confused as she was. 

Shifting, she carefully crawled across the expanse of the bed to him. "I don't know? This has never happened. Could he mean to allow us? To..." Marilena paused, licking those lovely, mauve lips and sending his attention there again. 

"To fuck?" Loki's crudeness made her settle back into her composure again, giving him a slitted-eyed gaze. Shaking his dark head, he chuckled, still a little rusty but getting better. "Forgive me, darling," he soothed, "I don't understand, either." Settling back against the bed, he poured himself some wine.  "Tell me more about you. Where are you from?"

Slowly, with many glances at the door as if expecting Thanos's men to come breaking in at any moment, Marilena hesitantly explained. How she was from Vanaheim. Stolen by a slaver in the market one day, disappearing from her grieving family. Sold to Thanos and used as "bait" to torment his victims. "The King was... pleased..." she shuddered, "that I was intact. That it would give these pigs greater pleasure to tear me-" quickly stopping as she realized one of those "pigs" might be the beautiful man lounging before her. 

Waving a hand at her anxious face, Loki smiled darkly. "Of course. Perfectly logical." It was been some time since they'd been in this sad little attempt at seduction, and he was beginning to suspect no one would be coming through that door. Why would the monster king give this lovely virgin to him, if not to tear her from him? "So..." he eyed her thoughtfully, "no one has ever given you pleasure? Taught you how to make yourself come?" His eyes fluttered shut in remembered pleasure, "Watching you arch and moan as you poured your sweetness over their cock or fingers?" He knew the girl was afraid of him- Gods, he was half-mad and looked it, _he_ would fear his manic visage- but this Marilena was so very beautiful, so sweet in a greenhouse of rotting fruit. With a huff of amusement at his own "unselfishness," Loki rose above her on his knees again. He was certain this delicious moment would be cruelly interrupted, so he might as well make use of it despoiling the girl and introducing her to her own pleasure.

So, he did.

And this delightful creature from Vanaheim was so very, very responsive, dancing on his fingertips as Loki rested his chin on her smooth belly and watched her writhe, whimpering so beautifully on his hand, slicking him to the wrist when she came. "Such a good girl," he soothed, kissing her sweaty forehead and enjoying her little shiver at his cool mouth. "How do you feel, darling?"

Those almond-shaped eyes opened to his, dreamy and a little unfocused. "Is it always like this?"

The first stirrings of grief began creeping up his spine. It would never be like this for this girl. Not with this monster. Her life would be a never-ending round of torment now, he could tell. Another whore for the Titan's use. Forcing a smile, Loki ran his tongue up her wet slit, enjoying her desperate moan and how those little hands clutched at his thick hair, tightening down on silky handfuls as she came. It was closer to dawn- or whatever twisted permutation of dawn that Thanos's nightmare universe utilized, when they both realized their time was short. Marilena's golden gaze rose to his, sorrowful as she held him more tightly. "Shhh..." Loki soothed, "thank you for the pleasures of your beautiful body. Of reminding me what it is to be a man."

As he meant to pull away, she pulled at him. "Not yet- Loki, please? Let me give you a moment to take into battle." Her smile grew, a mischievous, impish grin that made the girl look even more charming. She held her smile as Marilena slid down his toned pelvis to lovingly take his cock in her mouth. She was no expert, he could tell as she hesitantly licked the tip of him, applying some suction with that lovely mouth. But Loki smiled and leaned back, eyes closing in pleasure and groaning as the girl slid more of him into her mouth. The combination of her bizarre sweetness in this fetid universe and the eager application of her lips and tongue were nearly unbearable, so with a groan the Dark Prince flipped her over and on to her back, rubbing himself helplessly against her silky body.

"Do you want this, Marilena? You must say the words."

Legs spread with this beautiful man between them, she could only nod helplessly before remembering how to talk again. "Yes, please, my Prince. Please, Loki. Give me this good memory to-" here, her voice broke, thinking of the decades of misery before her until she was allowed the release of death- "please give me something to hold on to- one last good thing."

He could do that. That one thing. Loki tried to remember how it felt to break a maiden. Gods- how long had it been? Time moved so strangely here. But with a delicious, mischievous smile he leaned in and kissed Marilena slowly, lingeringly as his cock slid to her entrance, moving leisurely up and down, enjoying all her trembling and her little moans. And when he could tell she was wet and soft enough, the God of Lies slid inside her, betraying his title as he whispered truthfully to how beautiful she was- how lovely. This perfect, unclaimed treasure. Mariela moaned, fingers clutching his arms and feeling the weight of him inside her, hurting in a way all the sick torments of this nightmare universe could never touch. She never would have thought there was pain one would seek, but the feel of being split apart, spread wide by his cock inside her- she would have gladly taken it every day to have him build this feeling in her. And when her silky walls began tightening along his sliding shaft, clinging to him and her legs tightening on the small of his back, Loki's tongue slid to her ear, licking along the shape of it before whispering, "Time to come, my angel. Come for daddy." And with a joyful wail, she did, crying and clutching against him as this beautiful God groaned and spilled inside her, the cool of him spreading through her fiery pussy. She was limp as he rose to fetch a cloth and clean her, smiling at her in an utterly filthy way as Marilena gasped and stiffened against the feel of him cleaning between her sore thighs. Loki held her for a moment, feeling her nudge into him like a bird seeking shelter. But it was his heightened senses that heard the guards coming for him. The Chitauri, ready to deliver blood, and pain. And death. So putting his hands on her face, thumbs stroking those high cheekbones of hers, Loki forced a smile, looking down at her. Leaning so close that his mouth touched her ear, the Prince whispered, "I have only one gift to give you, my sweet Mari." And he spoke one word, watching her eyes widen, then fill with tears. But she still nodded, his fellow prisoner in this place and gave him one, tender last kiss.

"Thank you!" she called after him, barely heard over the clamor of the insectile chittering of Loki's new minions.

 

 --------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was a beautiful day in Vanaheim, the lavender skies clear and a light breeze blowing Marilena's dark hair across her pretty eyes. "Andreas!" she called, laughing at the sight of her son racing across the lawn of their home. "It is nearly time for dinner, my boy! Come inside!"

"You spoil him," the teasing tone of her husband Bjorn spoke behind her, using the ear Loki had whispered in those light years ago. The whisper of one word that ended her life in the Hel of Thanos's making, and delivering her soul to the Hel run by Loki's daughter, Hela.

"You shouldn't be here." Hela was lounging in her throne, half dessicated corpse and half dark beauty from her father.

Marilena was shaking uncontrollably, sunk into the deepest curtsey she could manage. "F- f- forgive me, my Queen," she stuttered, "I was sent here-"

"Yes, yes," Hela's hand flapped impatiently, "by my dear, rather absentee father, though I can understand the lack of calls and letters these last few years..." Her one emerald eye looked over the pale girl. "Nonetheless, you do not belong here. I must send you home to Vanaheim."

The girl was just about to throw herself on the monstrous guardian of Hel's feet and kiss them in desperation, ready to beg her in any way to not return her to Thanos's vicious stronghold. "To- what- to Vanaheim?" Marilena's smile began to grow, slowly, as if unused to the full spread of her lips. "To home?"

"Of course, you stupid creature," Hela said impatiently.

Mari's fear was quite clear on that pretty face. "But Th- Tha- Th-"

"Thanos?" Hela supplied helpfully. "Not to worry. He is..." here, she smirked, the expression utterly horrifying, "he is a bit of a gentleman caller of mine. Far too extreme- the fool! Really, the Titans have no sense of balance! But he can deny me nothing. Never fear. Go, live your life. If it's lived badly, I may have you yet." 

Her last words chilled the girl, but she still bowed deeply, stammering out her gratitude as she was escorted across the Shadow Lands and back into the sunshine of the living. Where her family was waiting, sobbing in bewilderment and simply beside themselves with joy to see her again. And a few years later, by a good man named Bjorn, who married her and celebrated that honor every day with a showering of love and kindness. And eventually, by their sons, one of which was apparently doing somersaults in her belly. As Marilena turned towards home with her son in hand and her other twisting in her stomach, she paused for a moment. There was a voice, sweeping past her like a breeze.

"Thank you..."

Her brow furrowed. It was a woman's voice, not the sonorous tone of the god she still dreamt of. But it was musical, sweet, and grateful. To her. For her. So, nodding back, Marilena whispered, "You are welcome." And turned to see her husband smiling at her in their doorway.

 

  


	19. Don't Stand So Close To Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona is introduced to Loki, God of Sudden and Erratic Mood Swings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me please, I was horrified to check the date on the last chapter and realized it's been over two months. And I love this story so. I'm having a lot of trouble with writer's block on all my stories, but I think the fog is clearing. Thank you for sticking with me.

Fiona woke every morning that week with a sour sense of expectation that everything was about to go horribly, horribly wrong. She was, after all, Irish. A country known for gleefully documenting the dreadful bad luck that followed good, the fall from grace after a flight of hubris. And frankly, things had been going far too well. Someone was going to get their arse kicked in punishment for their happiness, and she was fairly certain it would be hers.

Brushing her teeth, Fiona forced a dreadfully insincere, hopeful smile at her reflection. "May you be forty years in heaven before the devil knows you’re dead." Shuddering, she was pretty sure she wasn't slipping out of the upcoming mission unscathed. S.H.I.E.L.D had a hard lock on the HYDRA nest in Siberia. It didn't matter how much she trained with Natasha or worked on her gifts with Loki and his seidr, Fiona was certain of it.

She was fucked. It was a given. There was going to be a spectacular cock-up of some sort and Fiona suspected it would begin with that rat bastard Fury. But it certainly wouldn't end with him. And if his idiocy hurt her team or her Loki, well... She would sing him to death. With a smile.

"Are you muttering again, Kjæledyr? You sound like one of the Norns, and that toothpaste foaming from your lips reminds me of a rabid hound I had to put down once on Nidavellir." Loki came behind her, sliding those long, cool hands of his down her ribcage, settling on Fiona's hips.

"I'm certain we're missing something about this mission," she finally confessed after spitting out the offending toothpaste and even sullenly standing still and letting her mysterious Asgardian "daddy" gently wipe her face clean with a towel. "Bein' paranoid keeps us alive, and I'm not feeling it. There's... something."

To his credit, Loki didn't sweep away her objections as he used to, with persuasive kisses meant to make Fiona forget what she was talking about and often, any name (including her own) but his. 

“I used to be certain that I was the most suspicious and gloomy of any of my fellow warriors, sweet girl. Until I met you.” Loki took the sting out of the observation by kissing along Fiona’s neck and shoulder, but she remained unmoved, frowning thoughtfully into the mirror.

“The believer is happy, the doubter is wise,” she retorted.

Turning her, the prince lifted Fiona up and settled her on the granite vanity. “Tell me what you are feeling, Kjæledyr.”

Fiona rubbed her throbbing forehead. "We keep training for this mission, thinking knocking out this nest will cripple HYDRA. But..." she hesitated, watching Loki's beautiful eyes, concerned for her, listening to her. A warmth spread through her in spite of her fears. "We're missing something, daddy. There's something worse than HYDRA, and we're missing it. Something... I don't know, something building. Something more important to HYDRA than their usual fuckery."

Cupping her worried face in his hands, Loki bent closer. “Can you see, love? Can you read behind the lies?”

Her sad gaze rose to his again. “I can feel it. I know it. But I can’t see it. I can’t understand what it is. But it’s there.” Fiona angrily pulled at her burgundy curls. “What the hell use am I?”

Loki stepped back, looking down at her sternly. “You are of the Baobhan Sith. What would the others of your kind think of this self-doubt?”

It was a low blow, Fiona thought crossly, but her unfairly beautiful daddy was right. Her kind had roamed this soil longer than the Druids, and she was going to get all emotional about a bunch of jumped-up wannabe Nazi arseholes? She should be ashamed of herself. A small smile spread almost involuntarily across her lips. "Well, my Ma at least would be throwing wooden spoons at me and yelling 'Get your shite together, Fiona Marie!'"

And in his beautiful, purring elocution, Loki murmured, "Then, darling, get your- ah- shite together. When the time comes, one of us- you or I- will see that which is hidden."

 

While Loki was indeed the God of Lies and Mischief, Fiona noted sourly, he was also clearly the God of Sudden and Erratic Mood Swings, because by the time the team met for the final briefing that night, Loki was as cold and haughty- and irritating as shite- as he could possibly be. Even Thor edged away from him. Since Fiona and Natasha came in a little late from sparring, the only room at the table were two seats across from the cranky Asgardian, and mildly peeved that he didn't save a seat for her, Fiona plopped down gracelessly next to Nat. As Steve earnestly droned on- often interrupted by Tony's stream-of-consciousness observations- she examined the mission over and over, poking at it from all directions and trying to see what she was missing. There was something off about the whole thing... A cool hand sliding up the inside of her thigh abruptly yanked Fiona out of her musings as her knees snapped together. 

Loki. _Damn_ him.

Her arrogant daddy was the very definition of cool and disinterested, pale hands clasped in front of him as he indolently examined one of the holograms Stark had created of the HYDRA nest. When that chilly hand- still wedged between her thighs- gave the thin skin a vicious pinch, Fiona jumped and just barely bit back a squeal. Natasha looked over at her curiously and then back to the hologram. That vile phantom hand, manipulated by her spiteful daddy across the table, continued to run long fingers against the stretchy material of her suit. Prodding and pressing and rubbing until to her humiliation, the girl could feel the crotch becoming damp. Gritting her teeth, her furious slate blue eyes rose to his, glaring in the most threatening way possible while still trying to hold back what she was terrified was about to be a deeply intense orgasm. That bastard of a God always knew just what places to touch her, under and over her clothes, and even the barrier protecting her vulnerable channel was no defense against his rigid phantom digits, who were now circling over her uncomfortably swollen clit. Fiona fists tightened against the pen she was holding until her knuckles were white.

Natasha looked over again and raised one eyebrow. "You okay?" she leaned into whisper into her friend's left ear, noticing Fiona's jaw was clenched as tight as her hands. She only shook her head back at Natasha and then turned to stare desperately at the screen.

'Sweet baby Jesus,' Fiona thought despairingly 'not this!'

Two other hands joined the first, sliding up her ribcage and heading for her breasts. Desperately picturing setting Loki's unfairly talented digits on fire, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force a message of desperation to her cruel daddy. 'Cut that shite out!' she thought desperately, but somewhere along her spinal column she could feel the rumble of his laughter. Hard, and mocking as two unkind fingers attached themselves to each of her nipples and Fiona desperately thought of something else, _anything_ else. 

'A cat run over in the road, that was awful...

Ebola, a terrible thing...

Japanese beetle blight destroying an entire forest...'

Uh... Oh, god he was killing her!

'The spiny candiru fish of the Amazon river swimming its way into the urethra of the male penis and–'

"Oh, God!"

Fiona choked, realizing the words had come from her. Everyone at the table turned to look at her, brows raised inquiringly. "Yes, Fiona?" Steve said encouragingly, looking at her like a particularly approving professor.

"Uh…" She managed desperately, licking her dry lips, "I'm just going... I need some water? I'll be right back." Putting her tablet up over her chest to hide desperately peaked nipples and folding her arms like carrying a load of books, Fiona smiled weakly and walked rapidly to the other side of the room where an array of drinks and snacks were laid out. It took three tries to unscrew a water bottle, and take a desperate gulp of water. The girl nearly started crying when those damned Loki Clone Hands managed to find her again, attaching themselves firmly to the curves of her bottom and squeezing tightly. Fiona could feel her knees knock together. If she didn't sit down soon, she'd be writhing on the industrial plush gray pile of Stark's board room carpeting, so she managed to make her way back to her chair, still seething with hated. 'Why is he _doing_ this to me?' she thought miserably. Loki had never flaunted his power as her daddy over her body in front of the others- at least not as blatantly as this. It would take just one more whimper or Bucky and Cap's super enhanced sense of smell to realize she was wildly turned on and nearly wetting herself in desperate arousal. Slumping in her seat and taking another drink of water, Fiona angrily refused to look at the malevolently smiling man across from her. "Arsehole," she thought bitterly.

"What's wrong with you?" Natasha whispered.

Fiona jumped at her friend's mouth next her ear, and to her horror, she could feel another set of cool lips licking and biting along her earlobe on the other side. _"Tell her..."_ whispered Loki's faint, mocking voice, still beautiful even with a cruel edge. _"Tell her that your daddy has you ready to come like a wanton little trollop, right here in front of everyone. Your team of superheroes are about to enjoy quite a show..."_ This time the beautiful voice she so loved was almost unrecognizable, thinner and sharper with spite, _"Because you are so very loud, aren't you darling? Such a dirty little girl and so greedy when you're humping against my hand. Go on then, little girl. Show them what you really are..."_

Fiona was frozen with rage, and hurt because she could very well see herself doing exactly what that cool, disembodied voice was threatening. The only thing she could think to do was to hum, much under her usual higher register and hopefully less noticeable to the others.

Natasha frowned blankly. 'Is that the Police?' she thought, 'I've always liked that song. Something about a teacher and a school girl?'

_"Young teacher the subject_  
_Of schoolgirl fantasy_  
_She wants him so badly_  
_Knows what she wants to be_  
_Inside her there's no room_  
_This girl's an open page_  
_This girl is half his age_

_Don't stand, don't stand so close to me_  
_Her friends are so jealous_  
_You know how bad girls get_  
_Sometimes it's not so easy_  
_To be the teacher's pet_  
_Temptation, frustration_  
_So bad it makes him cry_

_Don't stand, don't stand so close to me"_

To Fiona's infinite gratitude and relief, the cruel pressure of those fingers against her most delicate parts begin to weaken and then fade, pulling away eventually and leaving her shaken and alone in her own shuddering skin. Busy with trying to put herself together, she didn't realize the rest of the team was uneasily shifting and leaning away from each other and then somehow bumping into the person on their other side. Banner was the first.

"Uh... I have stuff..." he stammered, "brewing in my lab that I have to go check on so..." and he was gone.  

Stark was next to rise to his feet and disappearing with a disjointed mumble about, "I never fucking liked Sting..." and he made his way out, leaving the super soldiers from the last century staring after him, puzzled.

Natasha, whose sharp nose already knew something kinky was going on with the miserable redhead to her right, simply stood and slid from the room gracefully.

Steve awkwardly looked at the remaining members and scratched the back of his neck. "So... I guess we'll wrap this up..." he hesitated, looking around the room and still confused about how everyone suddenly disappeared halfway through the session.

Bucky gratefully rose from his chair. "Great," he said, "I'm going to go take a run."

The room was then empty, aside from the infuriated ginger on one side of the table, locked in a staring match with her mercurial dark haired daddy on the other.

Thor looked between them both, head cocked like a confused golden retriever. "I hope you rest well lady Fiona," he said politely, turning with a meaningful stare at his brother, "you must be quite alert for tomorrow's battle, I am certain." His brother ignored him and Thor sighed, leaving the room. As an Asgardian and a god, he may not have been affected by the Banshee's humming, but he was quite aware that it started something, or finished something, or… With a shrug, he went to pilfer the last of the Alfheim ale he'd brought from home and given as a present to Tony before he realized that one glass had put the billionaire on top of his own tower, stark naked and singing "Total Eclipse Of The Heart" to a helicopter full of tourists taking an air tour around Manhattan.  

The room finally silent, Fiona slowly clenched and released her fists, unaware she was mimicking the dark prince across from her. "Why would you do that?" she finally hissed, humiliated and wanting to hurt him in some way. "You don't think they know you're fucking me? You don't think they hear us? What do you have to prove, _daddy?_ I'm not your-"

"Be. Silent."

The huge conference room was suddenly freezing, Fiona could see her breath coming from her lips in short, anxious bursts. Frost started multiplying in rapid, intricate detailing across the windows and the lights flickered overhead. 'Oh, no,' the girl groaned internally. 'There's only so many times I can short out Jarvis to keep him from bringing the goddamn tower down!' "Daddy... Loki..." she started, "ya canna-" With a choked gasp, Fiona was on her back on the table with a gigantic hand wrapped around her throat. Long, hardened fingers rasping with callouses. Black, pointed nails. And blue. A lovely, cobalt with a darker strand of raised lines and patterns that spread along the huge fist like a constellation. She'd gone utterly still, like a rabbit. Waiting to see which direction the wind was blowing. An exit. But the Jotunn's body above her was indeed a giant's, easily caging her in with lengthy arms and legs while his broad, indigo chest pressed harshly against hers. The hand holding her throat suddenly dug the thumb just under her chin, shoving it upwards and leaving a small, bloody mark from the harsh thumbnail.

"It seems I've been too lenient with you, Kjæledyr."

It was Loki's voice coming from that huge and terrifying body, but the crimson-stained eyes staring into hers were not. They spoke of savagery and death. Cruelty. And a desire to conquer, and crush. Specifically, her. And the cold! It poured through her like a flood from his contact points on her body, her bare skin seizing up from the chill, and- Jesus, she was naked! How did she not even noticed this gigantic blue bastard magicked away her clothing? "D-daddy, I'm freezing." It was all she could manage, but Jotunn/Loki pulled back, settling on his long haunches above her and looking the girl over with an almost insulting thoroughness.

"Midgardians. Always weak. Living under my rule would have at least allowed your pitiful life spans to extend past the century mark," he suddenly chuckled, the sound feeling like a cheese grater on her nerves, "or ended suddenly and unpleasantly for those suicidal to challenge me." Fiona's eyes were huge, watching the enormous creature above her speak in her Loki's voice, while the frigid, harsh body above hers felt like a stranger's. The thought unaccountably sent a bolt of heat through her pelvis, and the girl was horrified with her reaction. Unfortunately, Jotunn/Loki caught her response and laughed, more of a rumble, like the huge trucks that used to shake the road in her little town. He leaned down again, a thick curtain of his ebony hair swinging against her skin, braided with beads and gems and- were those _bones?_   "Though I somehow think you would not find my rule disagreeable, would you, Kjæledyr? Dressed in my collar around your throat and led on a silver chain?" His polar mouth was against her neck, growling those terrifying, confusing things into her ear while his razor-sharp teeth idly traced down the line of her violently pulsing artery. "Sitting naked at my feet, bound in a dozen jeweled necklaces and nothing else? Shivering and crying out as I played with your slick, heated cunt during dull cabinet meetings? Would you enjoy coming at my order, screaming and writhing as my men watched you, greedy and envious?" Fiona's hands had been shoving against his endless shoulders, but now seemed to have a mind of their own, fingers delicately tracing along the whorls and spirals of his raised markings, feeling the smooth movement of thick muscle under marble skin. Jotunn/Loki abruptly rubbed his cock against her center, shoving her legs painfully apart. The weight of it pushed against the leather covering of his pants, and he irritably waved his hand again, his clothing gone and Fiona given her first look at him.

"Oh, my god..." 

It was huge, his cock in Jotunn form, beautifully proportioned with his massive body and threateningly thick. But Fiona didn't struggle when Loki took her hand and pressed it against him, her fingers shaking as she felt the raised markings that continued down his shaft, rigid and pulsing against the hard flesh. "No, little girl, there is no other god for you." Those blood-red eyes were glaring fiercely into hers now, making her paralyzed and shocked by his fury. "None but your master." His hands were moving swiftly over the girl's body, squeezing her breasts to the point of too much pain, flicking and rubbing her pink nipples impatiently and then sliding down to cup Fiona's ass to hold her still as his polar tongue invaded her passage.

"Loki! Wait! You have to wait- you're too big like this and-" His tongue was jabbing up inside her, curling in a distinctly non human-like way, Loki's frigid lips closing over her lower ones like a brutal kiss. Fiona's hands flew to his hair, grabbing thick handfuls and clutching the glorious length as the only thing keeping her aware that she was still inside her body, still pinned on this hard meeting table and currently being given rather aggressive cunnilingus by the Jotunn form of the Asgardian prince who'd claimed her all those weeks again. The one who'd told her he loved her. The God of Lies and Mischief who'd made love to her quite literally among the stars. Her daddy was gone, though, and this one...

"You will call me Master, little girl."

Fiona's shriek rattled through the expansive room as the giant bit down on her clitoris as emphasis, his fangs not slicing through but it almost felt like it- holding the most sensitive bit of her hostage as that arctic tongue flicked it back and forth, more harshly than she ever thought she could have endured. But still she could feel her heated blood surging back against his mouth, making this indigo Loki give a pleased growl, which rattled through her nervous system, making her back arch sharply. When she felt one black tipped finger begin to slide inside her, Fiona tried again. "You're going to slice me open with those talons of yours, daddy! Let's go back to the- the loft and we can-"

For her efforts, another finger slid in to join the first stuffed inside her cunt, and the girl wailed. This was nearly her limit, the mixture of pain/pleasure that Loki used so skillfully against her devolving rapidly into the first part of the equation. "You will call me Master. You will do this NOW!"

It was never a word that had passed the Banshee's lips, though many had tried to make her. The lowest point of her captivity was being finally tortured into calling Kahn "Papa," an especially cruel thing after being forced to watch him kill her true father. But this? It was different. The colossal form above her, freezing her till her bones felt like they were cracking was still hers. Her Lord. Her Loki. And when he abruptly pulled those fingers from her and used them to spread her open to his crimson gaze, Fiona licked her lips and whispered, "Yes, Master."

His response was immediate, a thunderous growl and the flared tip of his immense phallus making it's way inside her as Fiona wailed and writhed. "Ah, my lovely toy. My precious jewel," Loki groaned, "the heat of you..."

"Ó dia, tá tú ag caitheamh dom i mbeirt!" The Banshee couldn't remember anything but the language of her birth and it came out in swirling harmonic that made the windows rattle in their heavily reinforced frames. Tony had made some serious security upgrades after the first time Loki came tearing through his precious tower like it was a pinata filled with candy. "Dia álainn, a bheith níos boige le do thoil..." The thing inside her- that ridged spike rubbing along her painfully stretched walls was agonizing good, the first time Loki had done something to her that was far more painful than pleasurable, but that Fiona could not have wanted more. One monstrous hand was gripped firmly against her ass, moving her briskly along with his hips, lifting her to meet him as Loki slowly pushed his way to the top of her. Once there, the giant gave a long growl of satisfaction. 

"Ah. Such a tiny thing to stretch so far..." his other taloned paw delicately slid along her painfully expanded entrance, smoothing fingers against the strained flash and soothing it with his chill. It was quite a bit sooner than Fiona would have preferred, but her Jotunn master nibbled along her throat. "I cannot wait, Kjæledyr. Open wide for me. Welcome your master." And as his hips pulled back and plunged in again, she screamed as he howled, both sounding more like beasts and the noise swirled round the lofty room, which had been sound-barricaded by Jarvis, even his digital soul shocked by what he heard. Fiona's awareness of the universe spiraled down into the elemental feel of the Jotunn's cock inside her- how his beautifully carved ridges scraped along her tender walls, flipped against her clitoris, batting it back and forth, the heavy feel of his chilly scrotum against her slick ass and the sheer, intrusive weight of this giant, pounding into her with just enough care to not actually tear her in two, which was her original fear and one not much reduced by his force. But still, the feel of the god inside her, cool like the ocean at night and solid, like the entirety of her insides were carved open to suit him. To house his cock and Fiona at the moment was more than fine with that. She would keep her Byzantine lover inside her forever if she could- everything else wiped clean from her mind and her body but this pistoning shaft inside her.

Loki felt half insane. Rather, this was a common feeling but this time, attached to his precious Caoineag it was alarming. He took such care with this creature, already so hurt and tormented by others. And yet here he was, rutting into her with the madness of his filthy, darker self- the savage he fought against and still his sweet girl was clutching to him, her sharp little nails sinking into his shoulders and trying to get a grip on his slick, cerulean flesh. With a groan, he took her chin in one massive hand. "Look at me. Open your eyes, mo bhronntanas luachmhar." And Fiona did, wide and searching his, with no fear of this thing he'd become, calling him "Master" and without hesitation. "We will come now, together. You will look at me." She nodded rapidly, trying to make her slack lips form words, but he seemed to understand. And then, those cruel lips spread into a surprisingly beautiful, savage grin, and the girl found herself grinning back. And when Loki leaned close and licked along her sweating skin with his beautiful, chilly tongue and whispered, "Give it to me. Your pleasure is mine to command." She did. The vast blue form above her stiffened and howled, and Fiona gave a soundless gasp as she came, just as he'd ordered her to. As his chilly essence surged like a balm over her painfully impaled passage, her eyes rolled back and she fell into a blissful faint. Loki hovered over her for a few minutes, panting harshly, head bent against hers and trying to pull himself gently from inside his precious, perfect Kjæledyr without hurting her. Still, he grunted in pleasure as a rush of the mix of them poured from her onto the table. Realizing his girl was unconscious, Loki gave a raspy chuckle and transported them to his rooms. After carefully bathing her and healing some injuries, Loki tucked Fiona into his bed and covered her with a silky blanket, stroking his now-pale hand against her cheek.

Walking into his living room, he settled himself in the comfortable chair facing the floor to ceiling window there, looking out over the city. Soon, his body slumped and Loki dreamwalked. He moved through the world, watching for the signs that he was terrified he'd find. Loki couldn't read the ley lines of this Realm, he had not even known they extended through the universe until his precious girl had shown him. Everything looked the same... but not. A water-color facsimile of the Nine Realms laid over something deeper, more sinister. Something that laughed at his terror in his dreams, something that promised blood and pain and horror to everyone he knew. With special attention to those he cared for. He'd felt the shame and weakness and visceral fear all day, and it made him ugly. Elemental.

"False Prince..." It was only a whisper. Not even a breeze to stir the air, but Loki felt his entire body shudder in horror.

"You will not touch her," he said, "take me instead."

It was the last of a dying wind, just barely passing by. "Really? How interesting..."

 

 

 

 "Don't Stand So Close To Me," The Police

 "Ó dia, tá tú ag caitheamh dom i mbeirt!" - Irish for "Oh, god, you're tearing me in half!"

 "Open your eyes, mo bhronntanas luachmhar." - Irish for "My precious gift."

 'Dia álainn, a bheith níos boige le do thoil."  - Irish for "My Beautiful God, please be softer."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW: "The spiny candiru fish of the Amazon river swimming its way into the urethra of the male penis" is actually a thing. It's a near-microscopic fish that follows the warmth of a urine stream into the urethra of a male peeing in the water and lodges there by expanding it's spiny fins. Ever since this was explained to me by a marine biologist, I gleefully share the details with as many men as I can. Unfortunately, one of those times with was our city mayor at a black-tie fundraiser. He looked at me with horror and said, "I'm going on a tour of the Amazon in less than a week with my son." Uh... sorry.


	20. As I Spit On Your Grave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona gains her revenge. And Loki loses his hope. And the Hulk comes out to play, so at least someone's having fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY. I don't know what the hell is happening with AO3, but instead of saving my draft, it published it two days ago. When I tried to save it tonight, it did it AGAIN. And when I tried to edit it to finish the chapter, it lost two hours of my work, which will teach me to put it all on my Google doc first. Anyway, I'm sorry for the confusion and for whatever asshole gremlins are running through the system of AO3 this weekend. I'll have another chapter for you tomorrow. Unless the gremlins fuck with me again. AAAAGH!

 

When Fiona woke the next morning she could feel the warmth sinking into her skin from the gentle pressure of Loki's hand. A sleepy smile across her face, she turned to look at him, knowing his gaze would be intent on her bruises, a look of mild self-reproach on his face. 

"Thank you, daddy," she said, trying to stretch and groaning as she did. Loki chuckled, not unkindly, “You may want to be still for a moment darling, while I take care of a few... issues." She was unaware of how she looked, and her bout with her daddy in Jotunn form had earned her quite a few corresponding black and blue marks.

“Will you do me one favor?” she asked. His brow rose but nodded as she took his hand and slid it over her belly button.  “Don't heal me here,” she said impishly, watching his brow rise so high it nearly disappeared into his inky hairline.

“Why ever not little one? Even after healing you, walking today is going to be extremely challenging.”

“I know;” she admitted. It was as if he had forgotten the beatings she endured during the last 10 years of her life.  _This_  was painful, certainly, but it came from something wonderful, something that made her smile, instead of weeping with disgust and shame. “I want to feel where you've been when I walk today dadd-"

With a groan, Loki abruptly hoisted her onto his lap and she gave an undignified yelp as he wrapped his arms carefully around her sore ribs, kissing her soundly. “You’ve threatened to undo all the progress I've made on healing you, little girl,” he growled in a deeply satisfying manner.

Fiona gave a rapturous little shiver. “No regrets, daddy."

In truth, she would've been devastated to know just how close Loki had come to abruptly leaving Stark Tower and the planet itself early that morning. He’d watched her curled awkwardly to take the weight off her most sore extremities, asleep with a sweet little smile on her face.  _How_  could he have done it? It was vile enough that he'd displayed his weakness to her in the past – his scars and physical torment. But to show himself in his monstrous Jotunn form... How did she not scream? How did she not fight to get away from him?  And why was this ridiculous girl resting there so lazily, smiling up at him as if nothing unusual had happened? He could not have explained his foul mood the day before to himself, only that the constant nightmares bled into his waking hours, that he found signs everywhere. He still couldn't bear to say the Name, Loki thought, shuddering. But he was certain he seen the sigil of the Titan everywhere- spray-painted on a building, revealed in a tattoo on the pale, feverish skin of a homeless lunatic, in the play of light that made the sigil clear in the sky as a flock of birds screeched, flapping from it frantically. So by the time he was forced to go to yet another of the Captain’s ridiculous and inane "planning sessions," his rage and fear had turned him back into the Loki that even his brother feared. He’d only meant to distract himself from the anxiety making his throat convulse and hands shake. Intending to toy with his pet to amuse himself and drown out Roger’s earnest and irritating narrative. But she had the gall to resist him! What else could he do but remind her who she belonged to, who she was meant to obey. And then… That rapturous moment on the table, that savage fucking and feeling the unspeakable warmth of a velvety cunt –  _her_  velvety cunt encasing his frozen Jotunn shaft for the first time- the  _heat_  of it – it nearly seared the skin from his cock. And he would do it again and again to plunge back into the fiery silk of his darling. Looking up, he realized she was still watching him, a thoughtful expression on her pale, freckled face. She knew him too well, his banshee. It made him uncomfortable to realize how deep she’d slipped inside all of his carefully warded barriers. “I was rough with you,” he said abruptly, “far too rough. It will not happen again.”

Fiona sat up abruptly, cerulean eyes wide with alarm. “You didn't,” she stuttered, “you didn't! Thank you for laying with me in ... blue,” she floundered, “it was...” The girl shrugged, at a loss for words and ignoring the painful scrape that told her one of her ribs was bruised again. “It was wonderful.” He was looking at her, she knew, looking for something and she wanted to give it to him desperately, she just didn't know how.

Shaking his head to clear it, Loki finished healing the worst of her scrapes and bite marks and stood. “Come little one,” he said calmly; “there's still much to be done before we decimate a compound full of the filth that has tormented you.” He watched her gaze dart away. “You were thinking of Kahn,” he questioned, “if he lives I will tear the skin from his body,” he assured her, noting with some amusement that she actually perked up as if he just offered her a bouquet of violets. "Unless of course," he said generously, "you would prefer to."  

"Sweetest daddy in the world," Fiona sighed, rising stiffly and giving him a kiss as she limped for the bathroom.

 

On the jet and streaking north, Fiona fought against a sense of disquiet, staring down at the ley lines glimmering so beautifully underneath them. She frowned to see red streaks seeping through the blues and greens like oily sludge, like lava. 'Things aren't right,' she thought, 'not just this mission but there's more.'  Frustrated, the girl rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She didn't know how to explain it to the others. She couldn't even explain it to Loki, and she knew he was willing and prepared to believe her. Landing silently, the group strapped on weapons and body armor, everyone double and triple checking earpieces to make sure the new filters installed would protect them from Fiona's voice, while still giving them a chance to communicate.

Bucky stepped closer to Fiona, yanking one of the straps tighter on her shoulder. His usually grim expression softened just a tad as he looked at her. "You OK?" It was all he said but she could see his gaze running over her, as if conducting a visual scan for her competency.

"I'm fine," she snarled, more harshly than she intended.

The Soldier refused to take offense, giving the irritating strap another tug. "Good," he said, "let's go make this right. For both of us."  

Fiona was instantly saturated with guilt. Here she'd been whining about her decade under Kahn's cruel fist and Bucky had endured  _decades_  of unimaginable torment. Giving him a friendly shove and nearly bruising her hand from the attempt, she nodded firmly. "Aye, let's go fuck some shit up." He looked puzzled at her statement but followed her to the others anyway. The girl found herself trying to explain, "Fuck some shit up, right? It means fuck with them hard, to mess them up, fuck up their world, uh…"

"You say fuck a lot," he noted, but with a barely discernible grin added, "if Loki is not listening, anyway." He gave her a smirk as the long, muscled arm of her daddy settled heavily across her shoulders.

Everyone was present for this mission, even Thor and Banner, who was pale and sweating, dreading the descent into his other self. Fiona squeezed the doctor's hand, giving him a nod. "You're gonna rock this hard," she whispered, "I'll buy you a beer when we're back at the Tower tonight." Banner forced a smile and nodded. The group dissipated quickly, everyone knowing by heart now where they were going. Steve had insisted on teaming with Barnes, and Fiona knew it was because he feared some long-held code setting the Winter Soldier back in action.

Loki of course was with Fiona, and he ran the back of his finger across her sweating forehead. "No fear, darling. You are the vicious bánánach of legend, here to bring judgement against these pitiful remnants of a dying brand of evil and stupidity." His lips twitched just barely as his darling looked up at him, big blue eyes misty with emotion, looking as if he'd just proposed marriage or given her a pony. The most dark and troubling utterances made his Kjæledyr happy. So very much like himself.

The building was just as Fiona expected- a hideous concrete bunker with all the crumbling edges redolent of Soviet 1960's architecture. The squat structure had very few windows- small, suspicious-looking slits just barely wide enough to dismantle the security connection and squeeze through. She was still frowning as she went through the motions of the plan. It was all fucking off- if this had been a movie, someone would say, "It's quiet, too quiet." It wasn't really, there were plenty of Hydra suited bastards to take down, she ran past a lab where Bucky was eliminating a white coated scientist with extreme prejudice. The yellow fluorescent lighting blinked on and off from the faulty power system being dismantled by Stark. She could hear him chuckling as he shorted out one grid after another in her headset. But... Fiona could feel herself going through what felt like pre-planned steps, a maze set out for her lab rat self to keep her busy. So she wasn't surprised, not really, when a steel door shot out of the wall, slamming shut and blocking Loki on the other side. She could see the steel bulge as his fists and seiðr slammed against it. He'd be through, but it might take a minute unless she could find the controls. Bringing up her gun and sweeping the room, Fiona began singing in a low voice.

_"You give them hell this ain't no warning_

_Give 'em hell because you must_

_It's a long hard road we're walking_

_Because this battle chose us_

_You give 'em hell_

_This battle chose us-"_

"I've missed your pretty voice."

She didn't even pause, didn't freeze in horror. Fiona's voice roared out like a tsunami, tearing a through a melody that made the concrete room shudder, cracks splintering the walls until a shrieking, searing squeal like feedback amplified a million times slammed into her eardrums. Dropping her gun, Fiona slammed her hands over her ears, trying to stop the squealing electronic from severing her brain stem. Looking up, she realized that she was contained between the steel door- which must have contained something extra because Loki was still viciously blasting through it- and a thick sheet of glass, protecting the handsome, silver-haired man relaxing smugly on a comfortable chair. "Kahn," she finally managed, "you motherfucking piece of shite. I am going to end you. And I will enjoy every moment of exterminating you- you feculent pile of cow shit!"

The monster who'd tortured her for a decade merely chuckled indulgently, "Now, now. Is that any way to talk to your dear Papa? After all my work to make you truly great? Not just some backwater myth wasted in your pitiful fishing village?" He leaned forward now, and she could see the feverish, maniacal glitter in his eyes, the horror of it making Loki's furious blows against the door seem far away. "There is so much more at stake here, you stupid little girl. And when He comes, you will fall to your knees and beg to serve him-"

Head tilting, the girl could see the beginning of a tattoo showing above Kahn's shirt collar. This was new. "And who is 'he,' you muk fecker? It won't save you from death, but maybe I won't turn you inside out first." 

The man laughed. "You think this is a Hydra stronghold? That you would be gaining revenge? You are my gift, banshee. My offering to our new lord, and when he comes-"

Two things happened then. The steel door blocking Loki from her blew into a thousand pieces, all veering past her and striking off the walls of the room and the bulletproof glass protecting the other man. And before he could hit the vicious feedback squeal that dismantled Fiona's defenses before, she roared- like a lion, like a insane baboon. It was not beautiful.

 _"Vengeance piercing through my heart_  
_As I watch_ _you kiss the dirt_

_And make you swallow your betrayal and sin_

_Though for now I say farewell_  
_But one day I will return with a smile_  
_As I spit on your grave!"_

The effect was instantaneous. Blood began pouring from Kahn's mouth, beading up and dripping like tears from his eyes, gushing from his nose and trickling from his ears as he began shuddering as if in the throes of a exceptionally violent seizure. The thick glass shield began instantly cracking and eventually exploded inward, slicing him with a thousand cuts. Fiona walked in, eyes blank. Loki was behind her instantly, hands running down her arms and cupping her face. "Are you all right? Are you hurt-"

"His tattoo!" she gasped, "I've seen it before, on the arms of those two Hydra arseholes who tried to drug us at that bar on girl's night! This isn't just Hydra, there's something more, something worse and-"

There was a wet-sounding chuckle from what was left of Kahn. "False Prince. The Master will be very pleased to see you." Loki froze, his pale skin now turning bloodless as he stared at the subject of his sweet Kjæledyr's nightmares. "You kept Midgard hidden from His sight, but no longer. He has our signal now, and the True God is coming." He choked, a clot of gore just missing Fiona's face as she drew back in disgust. She looked over to a motionless Loki, still staring at the bag of flesh and melting organs that used to be Kahn.

The bloody eyes turned to the girl, alight was madness and a feverish shine. "And I leave you with a gift," he smiled in a nauseating parody of fondness, "Papa's girl. I had your reproductive organs removed during that last surgery. You were too stupid to understand. Selfish bitch. If only you had let me breed you. Now, you are nothing! The last of the Baobhan Sith to wander the world alone. Barren. Useless." Now both of them were utterly still, simply staring at the monster who effortlessly decimated everything they held dear in a few sentences. 

Natasha burst through the shattered door frame. "We have to get out of here! This is a trap- this is some religious freak cult- some offshoot of Hydra and they've been sending a signal into deep space- we have to destroy the satellite before it gets to wherever it's going!"

Loki stood abruptly, pulling Fiona up with him. He knew exactly where the signal was going. Digging in her feet, the girl leaned in and deliberately spat in what was left of Kahn's face. It was was too late for the monster to absorb the insult. There was nothing left but rivers of ichor, mushed bone and organs. Racing through the crumbling bunker, the trio was nearly knocked off their feet by muffled explosions from underneath them. "Is that ours, or a self-destruct?" Fiona managed to gasp. Natasha shook her head, eyes wide with an alarm the girl had never seen before from the usually composed Russian. Stumbling out into the clearing, they found Thor throwing his Mjölnir at a massive satellite dish, protected by some kind of energy barrier that was beginning to spark and stutter, fading against the hammer's blows. A huge green streak flashed past them, the ground shaking as the Hulk leapt onto the array, shorting out the last of the barrier and beginning to tear apart the titanium array with his gigantic fists. Between his assault and Thor's, the satellite was decimated in seconds. Rogers and the Soldier came racing out another exit, panting and worse for wear with ripped body armor and a cut on Barnes's forehead that was just beginning to slow down. "Did we get any data? A download? Anything?" he gasped, chest heaving.

"Some limited information," Natasha said regretfully, turning as Stark landed, his helmet disappearing back into his suit.

"There's explosions going off all over the bunker," he hollered over the noise, "those aren't ours. We have to get out of here." Everyone fell as the ground made a convulsive heave, rippling like an earthquake. Loki hauled Fiona up and everyone was running in the direction of the jet, Natasha rapidly programming instructions into a wrist communication device. Even running at top speed Fiona was falling behind, and she gritted her teeth, trying to move faster. Just as Loki reached back for her, the green magnitude of the Hulk yanked her up under one arm, tucking Natasha under the other and bounding for the jet. The earth below them continued to shudder violently as each explosion seemed to open up another fissure in the ground, opening wide to suck the concrete monstrosity under and unfortunately, spiraling out wider, the cracks toppling massive pine trees and sending boulders rolling.

Gasping, Fiona raised her clasped hands to her forehead and began singing to her elders, to Litavis, the Brythonic goddess of nature, praying for safe passage, for the earth to still and the fissure to close. It did not, and subsequent explosions did not help the matter. But as the deadly cracks and fissures in the ground began opening closer to the group, they slowed, not opening as deeply or as widely. The Hulk took a huge leap and easily cleared a dried riverbed and pounded up the entrance to the jet. Everyone piled on board, aside from Stark who was flying back and forth, watching the spidering fissures of earth tear open closer and closer to the jet. Natasha rapidly geared up and the jet began to move, but sluggishly, unable to get any altitude. "It's the Hulk!" groaned Barnes, bracing his feet and trying to force the throttle upwards, "He's too heavy, we're overloaded!"

Flipping off her chest harness before Loki could stop her, Fiona fell from the shuddering of the jet and crawled to the gigantic green bulk that housed her friend. "Brother," she managed, "you're so fucking beautiful! You and me, we're gonna go wilding one night! I can hardly wait!" The creature was staring at her, clearly unused to this enthusiastic of a welcome. "But, but you gotta let the doc come back out now, okay? You're too heavy, brother. We can't take off."

The Hulk turned his colossal head from her, growling, shrugging off her hand.

"No, don't you look away!" she scolded, "you and me- we're elemental spirits, brother. You'll come back out and we'll play, I promise. But you need to help us now. Please, let Bruce come out. We gotta get off the ground. Please." She felt his misery, his utter despair. To be trapped inside the tiny flesh cage of his unwilling host. Putting her hand- so tiny against his shaggy thatch of hair- Fiona hummed gently. "C'mon now. Please." Taking a shaky breath, she sang.

 _"Little cowboy, put your saddle in the barn_  
_Tie your horse up tight, so he'll know no harm_  
_Put your hat and your gun_  
_Beside you on the chair_  
_Don't forget, you've got to say a little prayer_  
_Little cowboy, you'd better hit the sandman trail_  
_Or you'll be late for roundup time you know_  
_If you wanna be a cowboy, you'd better rest a while_  
_Little cowboy baby of the old corral_  
_Little cowboy baby of the old corral..."_

With a last dispirited groan, the Hulk rolled to his side, facing away from her, and slowly sank into the form of Banner, who was stark naked. With a huge gasp of relief, Natasha pulled back on the throttle, wincing as another pine tree fell from the shuddering of the forest floor, smashing against one wing, but the jet finally took off, gaining altitude as the entire section of ground they'd been on suddenly dropped 50 feet.

 

"I Spit On Your Grave" Sinergy

"This Battle Chose Us" Anthrax

"Little Cowboy" Harry Nilsson

"muk fecker" According to my Irish uncle, it's Gaelic for "pig fucker." He certainly uses the phrase enough for me to be certain it's deeply offensive.

 


	21. I Know His Name Now. I See His Face.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which betrayal and love can sometimes be synonymous. Also, because Odin has yet to show in this story, Fury is an asshole.

The flight home was suspiciously quiet, broken only by the occasional coughing or mild groaning as someone discovered a new wound. After her initial scramble to get to the Hulk to calm him into letting Banner back out, Fiona was silent too, sitting with Loki’s arms wrapped firmly around her. But she was sinking deeper into her own pit of misery, finally having a moment to process what that inhuman piece of shite had told her, bleeding out his last.

She… was barren? He took away everything that allowed her to carry on the line of the Baobhan Sith? What was she, then? Fiona’s mouth twisted bitterly. Loki- all of them- had no idea how very long the Clíodhna wandered the world. But there was an end to each of them, eventually. Then there was another to carry the line- there had always been another to carry the line!

Loki frowned behind her, feeling her heart rate speed up to an alarming rate. Smoothing those long fingers along the skin between her breasts, he crooned so softly that only she could hear him. “Rest those fears, my darling. You have done so well today. Daddy is so proud of you.” His gentle words had the opposite effect, and his dark brows drew together as Fiona turned her head away in disgust. Perhaps if he had not been so shaken by the confirmation that Thanos was, at last coming for him, for all of them, he would have sensed and understood what was troubling his Kjæledyr. Her shame and fear about what she now knew herself to be. 

But instead he only saw his bánánach shrinking from him, from her daddy. “False Prince…” the last words from the clotted tongue of that vermin, stupid enough to think that the Titan would share his glory, the power. He and the rest of his imbeciles had just led Midgard towards certain destruction. “False Prince…” Thanos was coming. For him. For all of them. And Loki would be strung up like a slaughtered bull to watch the world burn.

So the jet streaked toward New York City as they both stewed in their own varieties of self-disgust and terror.

Traditionally, Steve Rogers used his blindingly lovely sincerity to draw the team together after a mission, successful or disastrous. But when they finally stumbled off the jet, eager to find their shower, bind their wounds, sit in silence to puzzle over the dread and horror that seemed to swamp them, none of the Avengers were interested in a pep talk. Watching their eyes avert from him, the Captain forced a smile, showing every one of those gleaming, white teeth. "Everyone's beat. Let's get together for a recap in the morning after breakfast."

There was a scattered mumbles of "'Night..." "sure..." "yeah, in the morning..." as everyone shuffled away.

 

Standing alone on the landing deck, Roger could feel that dread make his chest clench again. 'Is this what a heart attack feels like?' he wondered idly, rubbing his pectorals absently until Bucky took pity on him. 

"C'mon. Time for bed." Taking his lover's hand, the Soldier drew him away in behind the safety of their locked door. 

 

Fiona was sitting in Loki's absurdly large and luxurious tub. Her daddy wasn't fond of showers, preferring the spaciousness and grandeur of a tub with gleaming metal fittings and all sorts of jets and sprays and jacuzzi-style elements. Shivering as he drew a washcloth down her back, the girl turned to see his gleaming jade eyes, so close to her that she could see the tinge of tidal blue in his irises.  "Sweetness..." his voice was so kind, she thought despairingly. How could he still be so kind now that he knew she was broken? Irretrievably damaged? "Tell your Daddy what upsets you so."

Closing her eyes, the girl could remember one horrible night after Kahn had... done things to her, hurt her. She was so weak from the experimentation in the Pit that she couldn't even fight him, only lie still and pray he would go away. He'd finally made a noise of disgust, pushing with one foot to knock her off the bed. "Pathetic," Kahn snapped, rising to pull on a silk robe. "You'd better pray to your Gaelic trash ancestors that you shape up as some kind of a weapon soon." He angrily poured a drink, looking at the scrawny body of his banshee curled on the floor. "You're certainly no good for anything else. No man will ever want you."

"I thought..." Fiona's thoughts drifted away like milkweed, but she forced herself to concentrate. "I thought it would feel better."

Loki was silent for a moment, strong hands stroking over the smooth skin of her back, absently pleased to feel muscle tone instead of the knobby bumps of her spine. "Revenge," he bent to place a gentle kiss at the base of her neck, his warm breath stirring the wispy bits of hair there, "never feels as satisfying as it should. There is... an emptiness. A loss of purpose."

Fiona suddenly turned in the bath to face him, grabbing his biceps and sloshing water over the edge. "Why?" she asked, "Why doesn't it? Kahn is..." she gagged a bit but continued, "he can't hurt anyone else, not ever again. Why doesn't it feel better?"

Pausing for a moment, Loki stroked her cheek.

 _"I'll never pause again, never stand still,_  
_Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine_  
_Or fortune given me measure of revenge."_

"It drives us," he murmured, "keeps us alive one more day for the intent to take revenge. But it is never enough. It never grants us peace."

Gritting her teeth against the swell in her chest, Fiona lost the fight and an ugly sob erupted. "Then... um, then what does?"

The weight of his hand of her face was the only thing that seemed to anchor her, remind the girl where she was in this time and space. And when she opened her teary eyes to see the beautiful face of the god who cared for her, Fiona was struck dumb by the grief and resignation on his perfect features. "These moments. The small perfect moments between lovers. Between a prince and his princess. A God and his betrothed. That is all."

Turning on her own to face him, her daddy, Fiona laced her fingers into the thick, ebony silk of his hair at the back of his neck. “I’m... your princess?” she asked shyly. She’s heard the word “betrothed,” but didn’t know if it meant the same thing to Loki as it did to her.

His big hand went under her chin then, lifting it and forcing her to look at him. “And my lover.” Loki kissed her then, those heavenly, cool lips soothing her puffy ones and making Fiona sigh. “My angel...” another kiss. “My Kjæledyr...” another kiss as his tongue ran across her lips, teasingly, lightly, making the girl follow his mouth blindly. “My betrothed.” Loki felt her still, running his mouth down her shoulder. “When this... conflict ends, we will be wed, min Engel.”

Despite the horror of the night, Loki bit back a chuckle as his songstress reared back. “That’s your proposal, Daddy? Dinna they not call you Silvertongue?”

Wrapping his arms around her firmly, Loki kissed her temple as he soothed, “When the time comes, I shall bestow upon you a huge ring- vulgarly large and cause all the Nine Realms to celebrate.  But for now...” Improbably, Fiona thought, almost impossible it seemed but here he was, her beautiful daddy, as full as the moon and holding that gigantic shaft still and pushing with his other hand on her hip to sink his Kjæledyr down on it. Despite her saucy request to not heal the soreness left behind from his Jotunn cock, the girl nearly bit a hole through her lip, keeping quiet as Loki slid her down on his wonderfully, alarmingly thick shaft, enjoying the way her lips opened for him- like petals unfurling from a flower and the scent of her- sweeter than his mother’s rose gardens in Asgard or the exquisite scent of a violet patch on the moors.

”Stop... wait, daddy!" Fiona’s fingernails dug into Loki’s scalp, but he was still, letting her slide down on her own pace. She knew babies came from this spot but she still couldn’t guess how because her daddy’s cock was fucking gigantic and... Closing her eyes, she turned her face away, kissing along his neck and shoulder. It wouldn’t matter. If he had not heard that rat bastard Kahn, Loki would eventually need to know she couldn’t be his princess. Couldn't carry on his line. But her cowardly self soothed her, ‘Just for tonight... don’t think about it. Just feel him inside you and be happy. It might be the last time, so... be happy.’ So as that thick shaft slid along her, spreading soft tissue hugely wide, Fiona didn’t bother to stifle a moan of relief. Two big hands squeezing the slick globes of her ass tightly made her freeze in shock, pulling a moan that her dark and terrible daddy enjoyed as he chuckled unrepentantly. Loki did it again, driving up with his hips, feet braced on the bathtub’s floor and squeezing her ass again as he drove up into her channel, enjoying her corresponding stiffening that clamped down so beautifully on his cock. Fiona’s eyes rolled back in a deeply satisfied fashion as he did it again, over and over until she was shaking with arousal and when her cruel and mercurial daddy flipped her over in her hands and knees, she anxiously grasped the side of the porcelain tub. Loki brutally pounded towards his first, deeply satisfyingly eruptive performance. Before he'd finished, he paused and leaned down, still throbbing wildly and laughing breathlessly as his lovely, lovely girl quivered underneath him. 

"Poor girl..." Loki soothed, "you have not found your satisfaction. Shall I give it to you, then?"

"Yes, please?" Fiona never knew what to ask for in moments like these, when her nerves were on fire and she was nearly in tears, so desperate to come. She felt her cruel Asgardian daddy thrust harder until she felt his cock swell, sighing and bracing blissfully for his finish. But Loki pulled out just in time, luxuriously stroking his cock until he flowed over the small of her back, enjoying the view of the pool of his spendings on her skin. Running his fingers through his come, Loki stroked one finger against the pucker of her ass, enjoying with a spiteful grin as his sweet girl tightened against his questing digit. Adding another finger into the lubrication of his finish, Loki began sliding the second digit within her. Long, thick fingers, her dazed brain managed, really... unfair because they were already the size of... uh...

And then all thought was lost because her beautiful and cruel daddy’s cock was back inside her cunt as his fingers stroked up her ass, pressing against that slick thin place between them. And when that beautiful, pale bastard’s thumb began strumming idly over her clitoris, Fiona began shaking and moaning, it was over. This otherworldly god owned her. Body and soul. And when he laid his cool, granite hard chest against her sweaty back and growled, “Come for daddy again, my sweetness. Be daddy’s good girl.” And just as he’d ordered, Fiona threw back her head and wailed pleasurably, too far gone to hide her reaction. Oh, what this beautiful, terrifying god did to her.

 

When they finished, the sun was beginning to work its way through the stone labyrinth of Manhattan. Fiona lay on her side watching the path of light creep across the floor as Loki curled behind her, as closely pressed to her as some exotic corset or rope binding, two things he was idly considering doing to his Kjæledyr. The sweet sweat from their coupling was still sliding along their skin.

“I see his face now,” Fiona said flatly, “I know his name.” Behind her, Loki was stone. An impossible stillness and his arm suddenly feeling hugely heavy across her hip. The banshee cleared her throat, suddenly choked with emotion and a crawling atavistic sort of horror that made her lips numb and her tongue clumsy. “It's Thanos,” she finally said, “he's coming for us, isn't he?"

It took Loki so long to answer that she nearly turned to see if he was still breathing. But his arm hardened against her waist keeping her in place facing blankly out the window. “Yes;” he managed. ”Yes, my lovely. I fear he is.”

 

It was no surprise then, that as they were finally dressing, feeling as sore and tired as they had the night before that a clamoring in the hall indicated new arrivals to Stark Tower. As they headed up to the joint meeting room overlooking the roof and the helicopter pad, Fiona frowned to see a hugely improbable grin on Thor’s face as he strolled forward to meet their four guests, arms wide. “My friends!” he roared happily, “At last, good news!” But the grim expressions from the visiting Asgardians indicated it was not good news at all.

And since timing was on her side until it wasn't, Fiona heard the sneering tone of Nick Fury from behind her. “At last,” he snarled, “everyone's here. Now I'll finally get some answers.”

The seating in the giant room was not subtle. Fiona noted she and Loki were seated together with everyone else facing them as if they were on trial. To Bucky and Steve's credit, the two of them insisted on standing by the pair currently under scrutiny.  

“Thanos is coming and it's you, Loki who has led him here.” Fandral snarled unpleasantly, none of his usual humor on his handsome face. 

“That purple pile of pig shit tortured Loki for _eons_ before he came to earth,” hissed Fiona, leaning forward menacingly. “Not one of you ever bothered to even ask about that, did you?” Thor was already looking back-and-forth helplessly, the way he had when Stark had insisted he attend Wimbledon with him because he wanted the best seats. It had worked: the Wimbledon officials actually removing the Royal Family from their box in favor of the blonde Asgardian Prince.  

“But...” he said helplessly, “you never spoke of torture, Loki- only that the Titan gave you the Tesseract to conquer Midgard.”

“Well maybe if you would ever thought to ask how the fuck that could possibly happen?” Fiona could feel the pitch of her voice rise, those around them shifting and rubbing hands across foreheads, rubbing the back of their necks as if trying to chase away a painful buzzing in their brains. “Really? Your brother fucking falls from the Bifrost and you canna be bothered to know why he reappears in such a way an-“

"But…" Thor protested, "Father said he would not allow Loki to heal his injuries, but I thought that he meant from the Hulk, from the battle?" His heart sank as he could see Fiona's fury and his brother's set, pale face refusing to look at anyone. "Brother," Thor managed, "is this true? Was it...? 

”I let go that day at the Bifrost." Loki’s voice whiplashed around the room, causing even the strident Fiona to turn to him in shock. His beautiful face could have been carved from carrera marble. “But it matters not if I let go. If I was dropped. Whether I was tortured into invading Midgard or no. What concerns us now is that I have betrayed Tha-“ he paused, square jaw tight, “I have kept the Tesseract from Thanos. I have hidden two others of the Infinity Stones.”

"Now why did you do  _that,_  Reindeer Games?" Stark asked, the first ugly tones of suspicion creeping into his voice.

Loki looked at him as one would an especially simple-minded dog who couldn't figure out how to fetch a stick. "Because," he answered slowly, "I was keeping them from Thanos and the inevitable decimation of your planet."

"Keeping them from Thanos, or keeping them for yourself?" questioned Hogun. Loki felt a mild sense of disappointment- Hogun was usually the _sensible_ one. The one of the Warriors Three who would sit and listen without speaking, analyzing shrewdly. Loki's surprise made the warrior shake his head. "We have spoken with Heimdall and the AllFather," he said, "we are here to bring their intelligence to this war council- Heimdall watched you take the human to the Bifrost- you allowed her to touch it- sing with it." There was a ripple of shock that went around the Asgardians.

The worst part of jaw-dropping was from Thor. "You took a mortal to the Bifrost?" he gasped, "Why would you?" he cut off as an expression of suspicion battling with disappointment covered his face. "You were testing it- you were testing _her_ to see if she could somehow compel it... weren't you, brother?"

Natasha's voice was like a snake strike. "You were testing Fiona to use her as a weapon?" She made a disgusted noise. "You haven't changed."

Fiona's head was turning rapidly in each direction, trying to catch the flow of the conversation as it leapfrogged from one accusation to the other. She turned to look at Loki, eyes wide and hopeful when his cold jade gaze met hers. "Was it-" Loki's level expression was giving nothing away. "Loki-" she questioned, "is that why you took me there? I was singing the song of the _universe_ , and you were testing me as a weapon? Tell them that's wrong." She waited but her cold, inscrutable daddy said nothing. Fiona felt like she'd been punched in the heart. She would never be anything more than the pitiful creature Kahn had made her- no one would ever want her for more than for the harm she could cause others, for the greed of those who controlled her.

To his credit, Steve stepped into the middle of the accusations. "Everybody!" he shouted, and the girl was astonished. She had _never_ heard him shout at anyone. "All of you just… shut up for a moment. This is not how we handle discussions in the Avengers circle. What I know is Loki has hidden three Infinity Stones at great risk to himself and until I know differently, I'm going to believe he did it on behalf of the earth."

It was then that Fury lived up to his name, his rage crowding over Roger's earnestness. "Do what you want, Captain Rogers, but I'm taking that screeching freak with me and I'm sending Loki back to his daddy's dungeon. I've had enough. But first..." The director of S.H.I.E.L.D begin walking, slow and deliberate steps towards Loki the sound of his boots quite loud in the suddenly quiet room. "First you're going to tell me the location of those three stones in case we have to negotiate with this... Thanos asshole." The Warriors Three, Sif and Thor burst out in protest, trying to educate the rest to what they'd dealing with.

"There is no negotiation!" Loki's suddenly amplified voice flattened them all, "There is no negotiation with the Titan- he wishes death, he craves it and he will not rest until he is killed us all." He looked at Fury. "Imbecile!" he snapped, "Thinking you can negotiate with Thanos? Believing that I am the worst of the monsters you'll face?"   

With a furious gesture from Stark and Fury at the same time, several armed guards began approaching Loki who looked at them all, disgusted. "So eager to capitulate..." He instantly disappeared, grabbing Fiona and taking her too. It was the worst feeling- Fiona gasped, waving her hands out frantically, much worse than anything. There were voices in the Dark- howling and screaming in agony, spidery fingers grasping at her hair, her neck, tearing at her clothes until a violent pull that felt like her spine was being yanked through her stomach. Fiona landed on her knees. Looking up at Loki, who was straightening his cuffs, she chuckled bitterly. "At least you picked _my_ turf this time," she said, standing up and shakily putting herself to rights as she stared at her daddy- a man she did not quite recognize after that terrible morning. Fiona blinked, finally shoving the huge lump of grief in her throat back down. "Come on, then," she managed, walking down the street, "we're going for tea."

Surprisingly, while looking around Loki simply followed Fiona to just outside the little town to a farmstead, where a silver-headed women met them at the gate, smiling fondly at the girl. "It's been a long time, my Fi," she said, "and you look somewhat worse for wear." Her eyes traveling to Loki, she paused for a minute, leisurely examining the dark prince from head to foot. "My, my Fiona," the woman grinned, "stay for the day," she said, "this one certainly welcome."

"How do you know each other?" Loki said charmingly during the woman's leisurely tea service. With her flirty smile, she kept dropping extra lumps of sugar in his tea, making it indigestible. 

"Mavis here is the local witch," Fiona said proudly. "We've worked together in the past," they looked at each other and burst out laughing as Loki raised his elegant brow before quickly emptying his cup into a potted plant by his elbow.

"I did not think this was where you were from, darling," he said.

"I'm not..." Fiona's burgundy locks- while tangled still curled around her pretty face, which was alight with happiness from being away from the concrete confines of Stark Tower and the ugliness, and back to a place where she at least felt like she belonged. Just a bit. "I'm not dumb enough to lead them straight back home," she scolded, "that's the first place they'd look."

This made Fiona and Loki come to the sudden realization. "You directed the jump..." he said incredulously. "How?"

She shook her head and eyes wide. "I didn't. I didn't know," she said, "I just knew where I was thinking of- somewhere that felt safe." Looking at the god who looked ridiculously oversized in the witch's little chairs, she said, "Has that ever happened before?" 

Loki looked at her with disgust, as if she'd just spat on his boots. "You think that I would allow someone else to direct my seiðr?" he said, his tone was utter repugnance. Mavis chuckled and got up to pour them more tea, Loki noting with some disappointment that she didn't skimp on the sugar again for him. Really, he was quite thirsty, and a decent cup of tea…

"The two of you fit so well," she said, sitting down and then patting their hands as if they were an engaged couple there to seek her blessing. 

It was then that Fiona remembered the tests that Loki had conducted with her during the most beautiful moment in her life, now soiled with the knowledge that it was all simply part of his game- which then made the girl question everything.

"I can feel it coming," Mavis said, snapping them both out of their despondency. "I knew there was something bad- there's been birds flying into the cliffs- dashing themselves senseless, falling like rocks. The ley lines..." she struggled, "they're not… clean. There's something in them- something infecting the purity of this place."

Fiona nodded, rubbing her forehead tiredly. "I saw the same as we were flying over Eastern Europe and into Siberia," she agreed. "Whatever it is, it's sending some sort of location beacon- some sort of infection."

"It is not a 'something,'" corrected Loki, placing in his hands flat on the table and speaking deliberately. "It is Thanos, the last Titan. He worships Death. He intends to kill us all- slaughter us all as his gift, his tribute."

Fiona wanted to ask him about the Infinity Stones, if they would help them, but she didn't want to speak- not even in front of her old friend if Loki was unwilling to offer the information. The skies outside suddenly darkened as if huge clouds and thunder were rolling through the countryside. They could hear the frantic barking of the dogs outside, the bleating of sheep. Fiona rose so fast in her chair that she knocked it over, running for the window and then looking back at Loki who had not moved. "Is it him?" she managed, her mouth dry and her tongue feeling swollen to twice its usual size.

Loki finally looked up, his face pale and vulpine, his green eyes beginning to glow red. "It is the advance scouts," he said calmly, "they will seek to prepare the way for their Master. Thanos is close."

Fiona sat down, all the strength suddenly leaving her legs. "Then... we're out of time," she managed. Loki did not say a word.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loki’s revenge speech: not surprisingly, from Shakepeare's Hamlet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE BEEN WAITING for this moment in the story! Shit gets nuts for the next little while, but remember: do my stories not always have a happy ending? Yes? Have faith in me. Thank you as always for reading, my friends.


	22. A Song Of Ireland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find that wounded relationships are healed by really, really hot water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My greetings to anyone still waiting for an update on this poor story... I'm afraid all of October was taken up by my Halloween "one-shot" that stretched to 7 chapters. It's called "One or the Other" and has a lovely Thomas Sharpe AND a lovely Adam from Only Lovers Left Alive. Because two Toms would just be horrible... uh... what were we talking about?.
> 
> I will be more regular with updates from here on...

Unconsciously, their hands clasped, and the Irish witch behind them smiled. "This is good," she said, "the two of you linked the way you are."

Mavis's approval unfortunately had the opposite effect, since Fiona was flooded for the first time with the memory of Loki admitting he'd been grooming her as a weapon, there on the Bifrost. During the most exhilarating, illuminating moment of her existence and he was simply gauging her ability to be his tool of war. She pulled her hand from his, wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt and trying to think.

Observing this with a frown, Loki nonetheless allowed it. He knew what she was thinking- as if he would not know from his Kjæledyr's sweet, expressive face. And he could not blame her. But there was no time for amends right now.

The witch apparently agreed with him. "There is no time to waste, you two. I'm thinking you have to head back to Stork Tower?"

Fiona giggled like a schoolgirl, and if Loki had not been a god and above such things, he would have rolled his eyes. But then his sweet banshee sobered and pulled away from him. Startled, Loki allowed it. "I do not... I'm not linked to you in a way that would help us fight together. Maybe you should head back. I'll be along."

It was a rare moment for the God of Mischief to be found speechless, but Loki was, staring down at the sad and angry ginger who kept her head tilted refusing to look at him. "Darling- Fiona. I believe you are correct. Here, with the witch you would be safer- I can create a distraction geas, it-" The furious gaze that suddenly met his own was not yielding.

"You don't understand. I _am_ fighting. I will gladly give my life if needs must. But I canna- you took the thing that I based everything on- trusting you, loving-" Fiona broke off, trying to move away, "I can't fight alongside you, but I'll go where Steve and Iron Ass send me."

"Are you mad?" Loki was no longer conciliatory, now he was simply furious, that his Kjæledyr thought he would allow her anywhere other than by his side- his to protect as long as he could from Thanos. "You will not speak to your Daddy in such a way, little girl! You _will_ do as I say, and you _will-"_ The realization that his Fiona was pulling away from his grasp was like a physical blow.

Mavis the local witch had been standing by, shrewdly watching them both. "Fi is correct, you canna fight against this monster with anger between you. He feeds from it, I can tell." She took them both by the arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "You'll be heading for the hot springs, and this instant. There's not time to be lost here." 

Fiona was very nearly digging in her heels. "Not the hot springs, Mavis! I'm not-"

Once again, the witch's strength was quite surprising as she swung the redhead briskly to face her. "You have no time," Mavis said precisely, her face inches from that of her startled friend's. "Ya love each other, and betrayal and disappointment have no place right now. You must be unified." She gave them both a little shake. "And hurry up, the folks in town are having too much fun messin' around with that good-looking couple. The redhead and the professor-looking fella? Are they a couple? Because if not, I'd like to get a leg over-"

Loki leaned in. "Natasha and Banner are  _here?_ How could they track us?"

Mavis was rapidly pulling them down the path behind her house, heading closer to the hills surrounding them. "I felt 'em drop in, but I don't know how."

Fiona sighed, "They're likely sending out teams to all my known haunts." As much as she loved the Avengers searching for them, she snorted, "As if any of our people would give us up!" She and Mavis laughed knowingly, before ending it abruptly. Finally looking Loki in the eye, she said, "C'mon then, Daddy. We canna do anything to that purple son of a bitch as divided as we are."

“What are we doing, darling?” Loki looked between Fiona and Mavis, who was smiling in what she likely thought was a kindly way but stretched across her mouth in more of a leer.

With a pointed glare at her friend, Fiona pulled him the rest of the way through the tangle of branches and ferns that hid the large rock crater from view. It was clearly fed from some underground hot spring, and the smell was heavenly, Loki thought, The smell of his mother's- of Frigga's perfume, of just-oiled and supple leather armor, of Fiona's hair when he buried his nose in it. This blissful rumination was shattered when he felt the crack of his beloved's hand across his cheek. She's gotten stronger, he thought idly, moving his jaw a bit.

"That's for capturing me just to mold me into your weapon," she said coldly. "I knew you wanted something from me. Everyone wants something. But I thought... you saw more in me than just another way to kill and manipulate." Fiona turned from him, trying to keep him from seeing the embarrassing moisture in her eyes and started roughly stripping off her clothes. His broad chest pressed into her back, long arms wrapped around her and putting a stop to her angry strip tease. 

"You are correct." His face was buried in her hair again, lips right by her ear. "The team was ordered by that fool Fury to retrieve you. I was interested in your... gifts, and they are, darling, no matter how those monsters at HYDRA attempted to convince you otherwise. I had no idea he... that Thanos was so close. I'd thought of using you to unseat Odin, but-" Fiona began thrashing impotently in his arms, trying to get loose, and Loki tightened his grip. "But when I held you on the Bifrost and you sang the song of the Universe to me- I loved you then. You were too pure for... too clean for my dark work. And I have loved you ever since."

Fiona kept her face turned away. "Truly?"

Loki gave a choked sort of laugh. "I may be the God of Lies, darling. But you see into my soul, as black and withered as it is."

She looked up to him then, expression grave. "Then take off yer clothes, Daddy. You have amends to make."

However making amends was meant to happen in the hot springs of an Irish witch, Loki was uncertain, but his Fiona took a smooth rock and began rubbing it over his hard body, stimulating him and making his normally pale skin flush to a ruddy sheen. Raising up, she gracefully climbed him like a tree to pour water over his hair, rubbing the wet silk of it between her fingers and humming gently. A deep, shuddering sigh rose from his chest, pouring from his mouth like pitch, like the noxious spendings of that day in the pocket park when Fiona shared her energy drawn from the ley lines. The filth of it suddenly shamed Loki, he who took pride in his utter shamelessness. Like before, her fingers fluttered through the dark matter, dispersing it and they both watched as it disappeared in the steam spiraling up from the crater.

"Now, you," she said, offering him the stone, which he held in his huge palm, the circle of mineral looking so small resting there. It was a blushing pink, like his skin, and the prince began rubbing it gently across the fair skin of her back. Working his rough hands over her gently, Loki's thin lips curved into an unwilling smile. He'd always loved making the girl's milky white skin flush when he made love to her, enjoying the pink spreading from her chest and neck to her lovely face. Patiently, as if there was not a murderous Titan set on destroying most of the Nine Realms and leaving the shattered remains as his perverse gift, Loki ran the stone over every inch of his Fiona's skin, making it glow and tingle. When he finally finished against the sole of her right foot, he looked up to see her resting against the moss and clay at the edge of the outcropping, a small, blissful smile on her face.

Raising her foot, Loki began running his cool mouth along it, hearing the little squeak disrupt the steady cadence of her humming. Biting lightly into the sensitive skin of the arch, he enjoyed watching the girl sit up abruptly, eyes wide. "A Prince of Asgard," he mused, "rightful King of Jotunheim. I humble myself before you, my beloved. I kiss the soles of your pretty feet..."

He was doing quite a bit more than that, Fiona thought a little anxiously, watching that slow, familiar mischievous smile curve his mouth. His shoulders slid under the backs of her thighs, lifting them just over the surface of the steaming water and her center alarmingly close to those treacherous lips and tongue. Which instantly fastened on to the warm lips of her pussy and the God of Lies greedily settled in, enjoying each stroke of his tongue along her, sliding the pointed tip to tickle along her clitoris and then slide between the slim furrows, seeking out her entrance. Fiona awkwardly anchored herself to the edge of the pool with one arm as the other reached to run her fingers along the sharp lines of his cheekbones, fluttering over the god's straight nose and jawline. Her touch faltered when he abruptly lifted her hips higher and drove his mouth savagely against her, startling the girl into a powerful orgasm, keening and writhing against his face until her shuddering slowed. Looking up at her, emerald eyes knowing and with one elegant brow raised, Loki purred, "I do believe the springs here have done the impossible- making you taste even more sweet than you already do."

Groaning as he let her legs down from his shoulders, Fiona pushed her prince against the rock with a wicked little grin. He was lounging elegantly against the gray of the rock, head dipped and eyes raised from under his lashes to look at her. 'So beautiful...' she thought, his chiseled chest against the rock, nearly as hard but far more arousing. His cock had to be painful- hugely hard and the purple tip bobbing just under the water. Mimicking his movements, Fiona slid her hands under the perfect globes of his ass and raised his cock to meet her mouth, sliding the weeping tip and half his shaft into her mouth and brushing against her gag reflex. Taking a deep breath and trying to relax her throat, she could hear the faint 'pop!' as his head pushed through and into her throat. Arching her neck to give him as much room as possible, the girl hummed in a pleased fashion. Her god's head had dropped like a rock against the bank with his mouth open. One hand reach out blindly to find her throat, two long fingers stroking along her thin skin. 

"By the Nornir," he groaned, "I can feel myself within you. Exquisite, perfect girl..." Fiona stroked him back and forth carefully, trying to draw enough air through her nose. Finally tightening her lips as much as she could against his base, one hand gently cupped his scrotum as the Banshee began humming, a filthy, wordless ballad of lust and love. With a growl, her supremely controlled Daddy came down her throat, making Fiona gulp automatically and his feet to rise from the water in a convulsive clench as she swallowed his cool spend down. Finally pulling his from her mouth, she rested her forehead against his pelvis, between that perfectly defined "V" of muscle and vaguely feeling the tickle of his thin trail of hair leading to his cock against her nose. The little grove was quiet, only birdsong and Loki feeling as if as long as they stayed there, nothing could ever happen, that death or pain could never touch the one they loved as long as they held each other. The steam swirled over their heads, and Loki smiled in the naughtiest fashion imaginable. "It is selfish, I suppose, but I am not yet willing to let go of you, lovely." Hands to her hips, the prince lifted her easily in the water, hovering her over his still-hard cock.

Fiona's flush this time was not from the hot water as she looked down at the magnificent shaft, thick and being held straight by her Daddy to sink down on it. "Thank all the Saints for the magnificent recovery time of a god..." Aware that this was vaguely sacrilegious, she nonetheless straddled him, sighing in pleasure as he invaded her sensitive walls, inch by inch. She felt Loki's mouth running along her shoulder, big hands splayed across her shoulder blades and holding her tightly to him.

Eyes closed, he created a clone to sit across the pond and watch them, groaning involuntarily at the image. Her sleek back and the gentle movement of her hips, up and down, up and down almost painfully slowly, as if she didn't want the moment to end either, knowing that everything terrible would happen when they left the grove. Her head tilted back, and he watched her crimson hair cascade down down her back, ends touching the water. When his clone showed him his expression, he suddenly dissolved it- his face was open, painfully vulnerable in a way he'd not seen or felt since he first let himself drop from the Bifrost. And then his lovely girl began singing, so softly it was barely audible, a rough-sounding verse from the dawn of Ireland.

 _"I am the wind which breathes upon the sea,_  
_I am the wave of the ocean,_  
_I am the murmur of the billows,_  
_I am the ox of the seven combats,_  
_I am the vulture upon the rocks,_  
_I am a beam of the sun,_  
_I am the fairest of plants,_  
_I am a wild boar in valor,_  
_I am a salmon in the water,_  
_I am a lake in the plain,_  
_I am a word of science,_  
_I am the point of the lance of battle,_  
_I am the God who created in the head the fire._  
_Who is it who throws light into the meeting on the mountain?_  
_Who announces the ages of the moon?_  
_Who teaches the place where couches the sun?_  
_(If not I)"_

Loki could feel the blue tone of his birth creeping across his skin, indifferent to the heated pool. Fiona's fingers lightly traced along his clan's markings, the lines that spiraled and spread across his cheeks and chest, running down the thicker, harder muscle of his arms. In fact, her song nearly choked off for a moment as she was suddenly stretched aggressively by his cock growing to Jotunn size as well. After a few moments of panting, Fiona cautiously began moving her hips again and finished the song. As the last words were sung, the couple shook and trembled against each other, Loki horrified to feel tears in his crimson eyes, the shock of being unable to control his changing to Jotunn form making him feel exposed enough.

"Shhh..." Fiona soothed, still shaking with aftershocks, pelvis still pressed tightly to his. "This is the first song of Ireland. Everything returns to it's origins as it's sung. I love you, my beautiful god."

Indigo head dropping to her shoulder, Loki groaned, "And I you, sweetest, most precious Fiona. I will love you forever."

A loud sniff interrupted them, Fiona's head shooting up with a glare to find Mavis seated behind a thick fern and wiping her eyes. Loki's brows drew together. "Was she spying on us this entire time?"

Watching with narrowed eyes as her friend attempted to give her an apologetic shrug, Fiona sighed, "Aye."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "first" poem of Ireland is thought to be the one above, titled "The Mystery" and spoken by Amairgin the Gael as he first set foot in Ireland.


	23. Starry, Starry Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a price must be paid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've noted I'm sure that I've been overlooking chunks of Avengers in this story. I have a short attention span and can't remember the Scarlet Witch and Vision... Spiderman... and once you throw in Falcon I'm all messed up. Let's run with our basic cast of characters, please. It's not like I'm following "Infinity War" anyway.

From there, it was quick, hurriedly dressing after Fiona yelled at an unrepentant Mavis to, "At least turn your back, ya conscienceless trollop!" and getting back to the house to contact Natasha and Banner, who Loki suspected were getting mercilessly misled by the gleeful locals. Before leaving, Mavis tucked a little cloth bundle up Fiona's sleeve "for luck," and headed over to the dark prince, who was eyeing her with some suspicion. 

"You look all too handsome in this fancy soldier garb," the witch said appreciatively, since Loki had simply used to seidr to redress for battle. Taking a stool, she put it in front of him as he looked, puzzled at Fiona, who raised her shoulders in an apologetic way. "I have a gift for you, too, tú bastard dathúil," Mavis had a sweet smile, which she liplocked on Loki with some vigor, hands on his armored shoulders to hang on. "Eh, that was for me, but this is for you," holding up a piece of cloth that he recognized as a piece of Fiona's skirt. "Knights here in medieval times would carry a bit o' cloth from their ladies- a favor- to carry into battle for luck. Doan’ let go of this." The witch grinned up at him shamelessly as she slipped the cloth into one of his bronze vambraces. "It'll see you safely home to her." Stepping off the stool and putting it back, Mavis folded her hands demurely together and beamed at them both. "Off you go, then."

Shaking his head, Loki put an arm around Fiona's waist, holding her close. "Thank you for the hospitality, and the slip of your tongue, you utterly brazen creature." They could hear Mavis laugh uproariously at the look of shock on Fiona's face as they disappeared.

Landing abruptly on the same spot they'd arrived, the redhead turned to Loki, hands on hips. "Did Mavis really really tongue-kiss you?"

Touching his long fingers to his mouth, he chuckled wryly, "She did, indeed. Your sweet little friend has quite the agile lips and tongue."

Fiona's disgruntled noise was drowned out by a relieved shout from Bruce, who was being followed down the street by at least 15 children, crowding around and begging him to "Grow green, please!"

"We've been looking everywhere for you!" he shouted, hustling closer and glaring at them both, straightening his glasses. "What kind of- not cool, guys! You really think we'd let Fury take you? No faith, I'm disappointed." Natasha had caught up with them by then, also looking stern and not at all pleased. Fiona's head titled thoughtfully. Her friend was staring at Loki, her expression cold and distrustful in a way Fiona had not seen before.

Loki's answer was composed and chilly, even though his expression relaxed at bit at Banner's obvious agitation. "We are honored, Banner, but you will agree that was not the time to defend ourselves. Everyone must be at peak strength to face him-" he swallowed and forced himself to say the name. "To face Thanos. He senses discord and conflict, he enjoys it. He will use it against us." Loki was looking directly at Natasha as he said the last, and the Russian's expression softened a bit. They were interrupted by further scolding from Banner by the roar of engines as a jet landed uncomfortably close to the village, the hatch opening as the three men inside nearly spilled out in their eagerness. The Soldier reached them first, looking directly at Fiona.

"You okay, Doll?" He put his hands on her shoulders, looking her over thoroughly, apparently ignoring the low growl from the Asgardian beside her.

Hugging him, Fiona nodded, "Yeah, Loki and I were just... fixing some stuff."

"Stuff?" Steve looked confused but gorgeous, back in his Captain America regalia. 

The third man off the jet hung back, staring at Loki with obvious hatred. Fiona glared back, her lip curling with distaste. "You know we got bigger fish to fry here, right, arrow guy?" The others groaned slightly, knowing she was about to set off on Barton, who looked perfectly happy to give some back.

"All of you!" Steve interrupted, "There's no time for this. There's a gigantic spacecraft orbiting the Earth, and a huge, circular... thing that's been searching in some kind of grid pattern. It won't be long till it finds us." he turned to Loki, blue eyes wide and sincere. "What are we facing?"

Loki's face could have been carved from granite. "The children of Thanos. He does so enjoy having them do his dirty work. We must destroy them before we have hope of killing the sire."

"How tough is that going to be?" Bucky was definitely back in Soldier mode, face blank, a contained coil of energy waiting to be directed to where he would lash out with extreme violence.

The prince gave a bitter chuckle. "Nearly impossible. Where is the rest of the group? Where is my brother?"

Any answer was crushed, the very air around them seemed to compress painfully, making Fiona's hands slap frantically to her ears as she turned to the staring crowd. Amplifying her voice, she roared, "Run! Get out NOW! Get as far away as you can- GO!" Like mice they scattered, parents grabbing random children and racing for cars, running in all directions away from the craft hovering above the village. Blocking out the sky, and the sun, setting the entire area into darkness. Neck craned back so far she could feel it crack, Fiona looked at the thing. Black, hideous, dripping with arcane armaments. And then, deathly silence, giving the oily, nauseating voice behind them a clear delivery.

"Loki..." the hideous tone drew out his name with some pleasure, "False Prince. The Great Lord Thanos is most displeased with you."

 

There was no elegant war of words, shouting of threats or pleading of promises. Loki roared out something in a language so utterly foreign that Fiona knew it had to be one of the Dead Languages, filled with power and fury. The curse slammed against the Children of Thanos with the force of a hurricane, and they barely stumbled. Then, everyone simply charged at each other, the way the soldiers did before more advanced warfare, each seeking to tear and rend the other. Fiona focused on the one who'd taunted her Loki, a revolting amalgamation of distorted features that barely resembled a face, his spidery fingers idly raising and causing missiles of all kinds flying at the Avengers- doors, fence posts, cars. Dodging the debris, she screamed her song at him with all the force of her fury, drawing strength from the ley lines beneath her, feeling them glow a sullen red.

 _"It's been a long time comin'_  
_And the table's turned around_  
_'Cause one of us is goin'_  
_One of us is goin' down_

_I'm not runnin'_  
_It's a little different now_  
_'Cause one of us is goin'_  
_One of us is goin' down..."_

 Parts of the monster's face seemed to flatten, then bulge as his fingers began splaying awkwardly in opposite directions, clearly dislocating with a repugnant crackling sound, popping like armor-plated popcorn. With an ear-splitting scream, a gigantically tall woman- surely at least nine feet- Fiona thought disjointedly, turned from where she'd been leisurely engaging with the Black Widow and Barton to charge toward them. "Yeah, big brother's going down, bitch!" Fiona's voice was a torrent, a tidal wave of fury and she knew the pavers underneath their feet were cracking from the strain of the ley lines below them pulsing with a bloody energy. Praying the team had their hearing protection in place, Fiona let out a scream of such rage and hate that she could hear the terrified bellowing of cows and horses in barns miles away. 'Why did it have to happen here?' she thought despairingly, 'With _my_ people?' The scream of the Banshee seemed to slow the blue-skinned woman as she tried to raise her alarmingly long spear, her milky white eyes fixed on Fiona, focused on her death.

This had taken the girl's attention from the Ugly Fucker, and she felt Loki's back against hers, muscles flexing as his hands materialized razor sharp daggers, throwing them one after the other with dizzying speed. Fiona kept singing, not even sure of the words leaving her mouth.

 _"Time, time for you to die_  
_As I kiss your ass goodnight_  
_Time, time for you to die_  
_As I kiss your ass goodnight_

 _You can't touch me_  
_Try to rush me_  
_Slugs go, touchy-touchy_  
_Ya bleedin' lovely, wit'chyo, spirit above me_  
_Or beneath me, ya whole life ya live sneaky_  
_Now ya rest eternally, sleepy, ya burn when ya creep me_  
_Rest where the worms and the weak be..."_

There was a cautious sort of elation, through the group. These... things. The vile, dessicated shell that seemed to be the leader, the vicious blue warrior, some monstrous fuck with a giant scythe and the noxious bulk of something sub-alligator-ish that was easily the size of the Hulk- they were stumbling, bleeding through dozens of wounds, weapons drooping and failing to strike back from brutal blows from the Avengers. Speaking of the Hulk- Fiona didn't dare stop singing and managed to share her attention between that white-eyed bitch and the super ugly one- but where _was_ her elemental brother? Banner surely would have let him out by now? And where the fuck were Stark and Thor? Her throat was on fire and the banshee could feel moisture pooling in the corners of her eyes that she suspected was blood, but she'd sing until she dropped. The four sick fuckers attached to that purple bastard were failing, withering and she could feel it- feel their shock that these pathetic humans were _crushing_ them, that surely they could take these assholes out and then onto the Titan who tortured her Loki-

The pain was unspeakable.

If Fiona was in a joking mood she would have found the thought ironic, but she wasn't. Some towering new presence made itself known in front of her, but she was on her back, grasping desperately at her face. It was sewn shut. With wire, maybe but thick, too thick to tear open and the combined agony of her lips and teeth and even her tongue sewed to the top of her mouth made her shudder and shriek some high, pathetic whine that didn't even register with the humans. Of all the horrible things Kahn and his sick motherfuckers had ever done to her, nothing could have seared through her like this. Like her entire jaw was cauterized shut. The burning radiated through her and Fiona could feel the blood pouring down her chin, splashing on her torn dress. She was shuddering, trying to make her limbs move but nothing seemed to behave as it should, other than her fingers mindlessly trying to tear at the cruel wires sewing her mouth shut.

 

"Pathetic. I expected more from my children."

This voice, Fiona knew. The gibbering of the mad, the screaming of children, the wailing of the dying. Thanos. She tried to speak or sing, do anything- but all that came out was a pathetic "Mmm- mmm- mmmpuh-" and Loki broke his precious concentration to whirl around and stare at her in horror. She shook her head at him desperately, trying to convey "Turn the hell around and kill that violet motherfucker!" with her desperate gaze, but nothing came from her except for more of the ugly, pitiful grunts.

"My Lord Thanos." Loki's voice was all that was accommodating, gracious. "One simply cannot find good help these days." There was a chorus of growls and squeals and hisses from the monsters lying flattened and bleeding on her Irish soil, but her prince ignored them. "Perhaps it would be best if you passed over this universe. After all, there are so many more in the galaxy."

"Ohhhh... False Prince." the title was said with such rapture from the poisonous mouth of the Titan. "But none that contain a traitorous upstart like you and such a useless array of 'warriors' to protect this insignificant rock. I shall shred you all into pieces as my gift and be on my way. But, you first, False Prince."

Loki chuckled indulgently, as if he had all the time in the world as the other Avengers struggled to hold down the vile spawn of Thanos. "Ah, but you see, we have something you do not."

The Titan's nauseating voice dripped with indulgence, with condescension. "And what would that be?"

Her Loki smiled then, a dark, satisfied grin. "We have a Hulk."

Fiona followed the battle as best she could, mentally cheering her big, green friend on as he knocked the seven bells out of that purple pile of puss. She vaguely felt Loki race to her in her agony, trying to lift her, trying to use his seidr to free her from the cruel gag. She tried to shake her head at him, tried to put his head back in the game but he kept wasting his power until he realized the Hulk was lying shattered on the ground, beaten almost unrecognizable by Thanos, who looked rather unruffled. To her inexpressible relief, the girl could hear a high-pitched buzzing sound she always associated with Stark's Iron Asshole's suit meaning he was close. The four foul offspring of Thanos were breaking loose with help from their sire, the Titan himself was stalking towards Loki, still bent over her and Fiona shook her head desperately, trying to communicate the danger- the monster was so _close_ -

From her position on the ground, Fiona could see them all in sharp detail. How Tony made his way there first and looked around wildly, trying to decide where to fire first. And how Loki sensed the inevitable and bent quickly to whisper, "I promise, my bride, the sun will shine on us again," pausing just long enough for a final, desperate look at her, memorizing her face. How he whirled and began spitting shaped curses at the Titan, finding his strength against the brutal strikes of each cruel, purple fist. Her heart leaped in her chest as she heard the ferocious crack of thunder, heralding Thor's arrival- he burst into the street, throwing Mjölnir instantly at the biggest target- Thanos, nearly braining his brother in the effort. Fortunately, Loki's reflexes were lightning quick, but the hammer was as easily brushed off as a fly by the Titan's glove, a massive, metal object studded with two glowing jewels on the knuckles.

Fiona could see quite clearly where there was an opening for nearly _every one_ of her so-called friends and team-mates to strike against Thanos and _help_ Loki in his battle, his seidr fading fast and the monster's blows pounding him into a pulp, ribs shattering, an obscene dent in his forehead, and still Loki fought, looking last to Thor and shouting, "I'll see you in Hel, brother!" And how her muffled screams meant nothing as Loki managed one final taunt- "You will never be a... God." as his throat was crushed in the massive fist of the Titan, his head lolling bonelessly as he was dropped like so much trash at Thanos's feet. And then her eyes went dark and there was nothing more.

 

______________________________

 

Fiona regained consciousness once on the jet, the agony of her wired face nothing now to the searing anguish in her chest, feeling like her heart had been torn out. Staring sightlessly in front of her, Fiona could hear their hushed comments.

"We had to make a choice, he-"

"-Couldn't be certain whose side he was on-"

"He would never have betrayed Fiona. He would have never betrayed any of you." The last was from the battered voice of Thor, still raw from his howling. 

She was happy to go back to sleep.

 

__________________

 

How she hated them. Every single fucking one of them. 

Fiona was staring blankly out the window of her private hospital suite in Stark Towers as her former friends dropped by, arranging flowers on tabletops and taking her hand, offering her juice or pudding. She allowed them to touch her, too tired to pull away. The pain meds from her healing stitches and bloody gums and tongue made her sleepy and confused. But she remembered losing Loki. She remembered that. And how every one of them- all used to split-second decisions- hesitated just long enough to let Thanos crush her Loki's throat and throw him to the ground like a broken toy. And she would gratefully close her eyes and go back to sleep. Just to make them shut up and stop talking at her.

When she woke up again, it was Thor by her bedside, blonde head drooping, giant paws dangling useless in his lap.

"Th-" it was pitiful, her lovely voice was nothing, an ugly rasp like a rusted nail file. But he heard her, lifting his head and forcing a tearful smile to his face.

"Sister. You are safe." Thor was attempting to sound cheerful, something that always came easily to him.

When Fiona continued to make those desperate little noises, he searched wildly on the bedside table and gratefully came up with an ipad. With shaking fingers, she typed, 

'Tl me it wz a dream'

When her watery sapphire eyes met his and he shook his head, they began sobbing together, Thor like a child, crying so hard he almost choked and Fiona's arms went around his neck awkwardly, trying to pat his back.

 

Fiona sat in her hospital bed and then in her bed back in Loki's suite, the sight of which made her burst into tears in Thor's arms as he carried her in, making her cry so hard that she felt Bruce insert a needle deftly into her arm and she fell asleep again. And she sat on Loki's couch, staring out the window and holding the strip of cloth Thor had given her. "It... fell from Loki's armor," he managed, "I thought you would want it." And she did, holding it in her hand, twisting it between her fingers as she stared and laying her cheek on it when she slept again. There was discussion around her from the others. Fuck 'em all. Discussion that Thanos and his asshole offspring disappeared and hadn't come back. Everyone was hoping it meant they'd given up, or were at least licking their wounds. But more than one Avenger hissed, "What is he _waiting_ for?"

The Banshee didn't get long to mourn. Fiona woke a few days later to see the same shadow over the city of New York that she'd witnessed over her own dear country. He was coming back, that motherfucker. And she was going to tear Thanos to tiny, screaming pieces and shit him out the ass of a warthog.

But first, she was gonna hold a wake for her Loki.

"None of you can come." Fiona's voice was crisp, the rusty, wounded sound gone and her diction perfectly clear. "You let my Loki die."

Natasha tried first, "Honey, no! We were trying to save you, and-"

Fiona turned to look at the group assembled behind her as she opened the door to the roof.  "You let my Loki die. Fuck you all. You dinna get to grieve him."

In the end, she invited Thor to climb the stairs and join her on the roof. The noise and the smell of Manhattan was in full force tonight, the generalized, subconscious terror of _something_ rolling like a mammalian herd warning through the city. Looking up at the dim light of the stars, Fiona smoothed the long skirt of her gown. Loki had always loved her in this dress, loved slipping the straps off her shoulders and teasingly kissing her neck and fragile collarbones as he murmured lovely, naughty things to her. She wanted to look nice for him tonight. The battered. bloody strip of cloth Thor retrieved from his brother's body was tied around her wrist. The Asgardian prince had explained to her that Loki's body had disappeared in a reverse shower of light. heading for the skies as did all those from his Realm. So, she didn't even have his body to bury. Trying to remember her manners, Fiona turned to Thor again, painfully clearing her throat. 

"Would ye'... would you like to speak of your brother first?"

She could tell he tried, Thor made a valiant attempt but broke down again, weeping hopelessly. Nodding, she looked up at the sky again. 

 _"Starry, starry night_  
_Paint your palette blue and gray_  
_Look out on a summer's day_  
_With eyes that know the darkness in my soul_  
_Shadows on the hills_  
_Sketch the trees and the daffodils_  
_Catch the breeze and the winter chills_  
_In colors on the snowy linen land_

_Now I understand what you tried to say to me_  
_And how you suffered for your sanity_  
_How you tried to set them free_  
_They would not listen, they did not know how_  
_Perhaps they'll listen now..."_

Fiona didn't pause in her song, but she could hear it. The wailing of babies feeling abandoned in their cribs. The sobbing of those left by their lovers. The loneliness of the elderly sitting in their chairs in their hospice centers. And she didn't care. The whole city would cry for her Loki. Everyone.

_"Starry, starry night_  
_Flaming flowers that brightly blaze_  
_Swirling clouds in violet haze_  
_Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue_  
_Colors changing hue_  
_Morning fields of amber grain_  
_Weathered faces lined in pain_  
_Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand_

_Now I understand what you tried to say to me_  
_And how you suffered for your sanity_  
_And how you tried to set them free_  
_They would not listen, they did not know how_  
_Perhaps they'll listen now..."_

She could feel the shuddering of the heartbroken, the lonely, those in physical and emotional pain, those battling fear and grief. Their sobs. Cab drivers with their heads on the steering wheel, shoulders shaking. Businessmen abruptly sitting down on the curb, expensive shoes in the gutter and covering their faces with their hands. Shoppers with their Prada purses pacing back and forth, wailing in confusion and shock.

The utter misery of the Avengers. Every one of them downstairs in Stark's fancy fucking living area, faces wet with tears and convulsing in their grief. Those selfish fuckers who'd sworn to protect each other. Everyone but her Loki. And it wasn't enough.

_"For they could not love you_  
_But still your love was true_  
_And when no hope was left inside_  
_On that starry, starry night_  
_You took your life as lovers often do_  
_But I could have told you, Vincent_  
_This world was never meant_  
_For one as beautiful as you_

_Starry, starry night_  
_Portraits hung in empty halls_  
_Frameless heads on nameless walls_  
_With eyes that watch the world and can't forget_  
_Like the strangers that you've met_  
_The ragged men in ragged clothes_  
_A silver thorn, a bloody rose_  
_Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow..."_

Behind her now Fiona could hear the anguished weeping of Loki's adopted sibling. She knew Thor truly loved his brother. She knew his heart felt torn from his chest at the agony of Loki dead, lying discarded on the ground with his beautiful emerald eyes open and sightless. So now the girl tried to pull back.

_Now I think I know what you tried to say to me_  
_And how you suffered for your sanity_  
_And how you tried to set them free_  
_They would not listen, they're not listening still_  
_Perhaps they never will."_

"Starry, Starry Night" Don MacLean 

"Long Kiss Goodnight" Notorious B.I.G.

"You're Going Down" Sick Puppies

tú bastard dathúil - old Irish for "you handsome bastard"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sobbed while I listened to Don MacLean and wrote the funeral scene. But do I not ALWAYS have a plan? Hugs to all of you who cried with me when Loki died in Avengers: Infinity War. But as we know, our sweet Loki will be back, thanks to Disney.
> 
> The rooftop scene is inspired in part by a lovely scene from misreall where her Nora is trying to contact Loki via the all-seeing eye of Heimdall- you can find the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7824598?view_full_work=true


	24. Blackbird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona finds her way.

 

The next morning, none of the Avengers attempted to approach Fiona. In fact, their gaze turned from her with the shame she'd been longing to see from them. And her angry, grudge-holding Irish roots rejoiced. But it didn't satisfy her in the way she'd hoped. Trying to reconnect to something, she attempted to reach Mavis. After calling and calling, getting nothing, Fiona sat cross-legged in front of the massive window of Loki's suite and went  _ag taisteal,_ traveling spectrally to find her friend. The witch's farmhouse was empty, the pretty yard with it's profusion of flowers blasted into nothingness.

"Oh..." Fiona's voice was small, "Oh, no..."  Still dream-walking, she circled the property before forcing herself to walk into the witch's house. She knew then that Mavis was dead. The beautiful little stone and wood building had always glowed with life- her friend's earthy essence. Walking slowly back out, she found the witch's grave in the back, a single green patch in the field of scorched earth and rock, a simple granite headstone and dozens- maybe hundreds of bouquets of flowers piled reverently on top. Kneeling, Fiona traced the carving on the stone. 

 _"Here lies the Witch Mavis._ _Our guardian. Our friend. Our savior."_

She began weeping, fingers still trailing over the flowers. Fiona could see it as clearly as if she'd been there- her friend protecting countless terrified villagers with earth magic as the sky rained hell around them. When the fight was over and Thanos and his deathspawn absenting themselves, the people of the little town were all alive, but Mavis was not. When Fiona returned from her  _ag taisteal,_  she was tearing at her own hair, rocking back and forth and keening as her ancestors had. Hearing the walls shudder around her, car alarms and security signals ramping up outside, she forced herself to stop. The city had grieved enough with her. And if the Adroiters didn't get their shite together, Manhatten and the world around it would have plenty to grieve. If they were still alive to do it.

 

"Thor?"

The gigantic blond Asgardian was seated on a bench in one of the sparring rooms. Fiona could see by his sweat sheened muscles that he’d been working out. That, and that every piece of super-reinforced gym equipment in the huge room was shredded, ripped from heavy chains from the ceiling, torn off the double-thick walls. Sitting down carefully next to him, she slipped her hands between her knees awkwardly and just waited silently. “Do you remember, sister,” Thor finally croaked, “when you asked me if it was a dream?” Tears in her eyes, Fiona nodded. “I...” the giant Asgardian ran his fingers through his tangled hair. “I dreamt of Loki last night,” he choked for a moment, then continued, “he was quite irritated with me- not that this is an unusual occurrence, you understand,” Thor chuckled weakly, “but sister, he seemed so _real_.” Fiona’s eyes overflowed and she angrily wiped away the the tears with the back of her hand. 

“Did he... did Loki say anything to you?” she managed.

“Aye,” Thor chuckled bitterly, “he snarled at me- ‘What more must I explain brother, to make you understand, you oaf?”

Fiona managed to laugh while she cried. “Sounds like Loki, that’s certain.”

Thor wrung his big paws together. “He expects something from me, for me to make a connection. Something vital about Thanos, sister, I-“ rubbing his forehead, he groaned. “He gave me a message, but I don't know what it is! I revisit our conversations- over and over again...”

”Well, then...” Fiona’s thoughts felt fuzzy, but she tried to concentrate. “Start from the most recent, brother and work your way backwards, eh?”

Scrubbing the tears off his face again, Thor heaved a sigh. “It was... just before Thanos- he said- Loki said- ‘I’ll see you in Hel, brother!’ And then, Thanos, he...” 

Fiona laughed a little harshly. “It sounds like the swashbuckling thing my Loki would say, though he always mocked what he called ‘the tiresome Judeo-Christian concepts of the afterlife,’ so...” it took her a minute to realize Thor had stiffened, an alert expression on his face that resembled a golden retriever suddenly on point. 

“He did not say ‘Hell,’ sister, he said-“ comprehension swept across the God of Thunder’s face. “He said... Hel.”

Fiona’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Is there a difference?” She looked up to see a rush of excitement on her- well, the man she’d hoped to call her brother in law’s face.

”Aye, sister, hell- your hell, the hell Midgardians speak of is different than ours. Hel is ruled by Hela, the Goddess of Death and-“ the gigantic blond looked at Fiona’s sweet face. If he was wrong... to crush this mortal’s hopes, this creature who’d loved his brother unreservedly- “I do not know, but I must-“ he stood abruptly, “I will return as quickly as I can.” 

Fiona stood, too, eyes wide. “But Thor- Thanos, he’s so close, and-“ she stopped abruptly as he bent nearly in half, embracing her suddenly. 

“As quickly as I can,” he repeated, and was gone.

 

Left alone in Stark Tower, Fiona knew she had to get out of there- that purple fuck was coming back and she had to prepare. But she didn’t know how, and she was a mess. Not knowing what else to do, she put on her shoes and left the building. She was pretty sure someone was tailing her. Fury’s minions, maybe. Maybe one of those faithless fucks from the Tower. It didn’t matter. There was a red hot coal of hate burning in her chest. The first person who touched her, she’d sing them out into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean to drown. Walking mindlessly, she suddenly found herself in front of the elaborate black cast iron gate leading to the pocket park where Loki had taken her. It was locked, so she curled her fingers into the wrought iron.

 _"Open your heart to me, baby_  
_I hold the lock and you hold the key_  
_Open your heart to me, darlin'_  
_I'll give you love if you, you turn the key..."_

The gate swung open and Fiona walked through. Walking around the pretty fountain, she smiled, remembering the Google-perfect picnic her Loki made for her. Sitting down on the grass, she laid back, one hand on her chest, the other flat on the earth. The Banshee’s sensitive fingertips tried to find the comforting connection to the ley lines beneath her, deep in the earth but all she could feel was a sullen burn. The world was angry. So much fury, poisonous. Loki’s words came back to her in startling detail, lying in bed that night when she wept with her need to hurt Thanos.

“I cannot fight with hate and betrayal. My old weapons. Thanos wields them with greater skill," he'd said, her Loki.

"Oh..." Fiona breathed. "Well, I've gone about it ass-backwards." She didn't draw on the true strength of the ley lines, the inner map of the world. She'd pulled off the rage and hate infused from Thanos and his sick fucks. Of course she would lose against him. Of course they all would. Closing her eyes, the girl laid her palms flat against the grass, drawing up her knees to dig her feet in. "I'm sorry, sisters," she murmured, "I lost my way." Fiona tried to swallow against the painful lump in her throat, breathing in deep, appreciating the fresh air and the birdsong, the cool of the lawn underneath her. And sang her gratitude to the earth and to the endless line of the Baobhan Sith before her for showing her the way.

 _"Morning has broken like the first morning_  
_Blackbird has spoken like the first bird_  
_Praise for the singing_  
_Praise for the morning_  
_Praise for them springing fresh from the world_

 _Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven_  
_Like the first dewfall on the first grass_  
_Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden_  
_Sprung in completeness where his feet pass_  

 _Mine is the sunlight_  
_Mine is the morning_  
_Born of the one light Eden saw play_  
_Praise with elation, praise ev'ry morning_  
_God's recreation of the new day..."_

Fiona's chest heaved convulsively, and from her mouth emerged the same vile pitch-black substance as she'd freed from Loki. She could feel the joyful vibrations under her now, a thousand trillion spiraling molecules- everything dancing and moving to the rotation of the Earth, just as she'd felt singing the song of the Universe on the Bi-  

Sitting up abruptly, Fiona gasped. “Of course,” she said, “of course.” Her steps back to the Tower were a near run, Fiona was desperate to complete this next, uncomfortable step. Finally at the doors of Stark Tower and looking up so far her neck cracked, she could just see the dark sigil of Thanos vibrating in the atmosphere. And she went inside to make amends.

Fiona started with Bruce, because her anger at him was the most egregious. She cringed a little inside to see his face fall when she walked into the lab. Banner always had a smile for her, and this is how she repaid him. For the first time, Fiona couldn't think of a song to appropriately express her emotions so she simply blurted, “I'm so sorry Bruce.” The tears started falling, but she forced herself to continue, “I beg your forgiveness for treating you so unkindly, and blaming you when there was no blame to be had. Thanos nearly killed you, you have given everything to try to save us- I am so sorry.”

Taking off his glasses and wiping them with his shirt tail, the scientist just waited for a moment to speak. When he did, she could hear undertones of his darker half rumbling through the words. “No kid,” he stumbled, “I'm so sorry I'm sorry I failed-"  

“Doan’ you dare!” she sobbed, “I'm so sorry- please forgive me- you were everything that was brave and courageous and you sacrificed yourself for us!”

The two sat together and spoke for a while, still clutching the other’s hand. More than anyone in the tower save his brother, Bruce knew Loki best, they had worked together on many different projects and Bruce tried to share his joy with the knowledge Loki had offered so easily. The next steps were harder, but Fiona made her way to each person in the tower, asking forgiveness for her cruel words and making amends. She was touched how quickly everyone offered forgiveness, and how relieved they were to beg for hers in return, for failing Loki. The final friend she needed to find was Bucky, and Fiona searched until nearly midnight before she discovered him sitting on the roof with his legs dangling over the side of the building in an extremely alarming fashion. He was lying on his back, his metal arm cushioning his head as he looked up at the stars. 

“Well there you are, you tricky bastard,” Fiona finally managed, “you know I've been looking for you.” The soldier gave a grunt, continuing to look up into the sky as she seated herself gingerly next to him, back to the roof and looking up. “It's hard to believe,” she mused, “that there are eight more Realms, each looking up into a constellation of stars so completely different than ours.”

He finally spoke. “Where did Thor go in such a hurry?"

Fiona's brow furrowed. “I don't know,” she answered, confused, “he wouldn't explain, he just said he would be back as quickly as he could.”

Bucky gave a short, humorless bark of laughter.  “Here's hoping he has an earth to return to,” he said, turning his head to hers, his pale, gray-blue eyes bleak. “I failed you,” he said.

Rolling to her side and putting a hand on his chest, Fiona furiously shook her head.  “That's shite, and you know it!” she insisted, “For someone as - as unspeakably tortured as you've been- and you devoted your life to saving others. You could've drowned in hate the way I was- please forgive me brother, I need-“ she choked for a moment, the tears coming faster than she could blot them away, “I need you to forgive me or we won't be able to be strong enough.”

”What do you mean?” he said slowly.

Fiona finally smiled. The first smile he'd seen on her face that was utterly at peace, completely serene. “I know how we can destroy Thanos,” she said.

 

________________________

 

Thor's fist tightened convulsively on Mjölnir as he stood at the edge of the Shadowlands. He was utterly at a loss. He knew he had to find Hela, but the shades and grotesque shapes that stumbled past him seemed disinterested in offering  directions. He finally resorted to roaring her name over and over, howling at the top of his deep bass tones. "HELA! Goddess! Queen of the underworld! HELLLAAA!"

It suddenly felt as if his massive body had been turned inside out and then sideways, a black pitch coming over Thor's eyes. He managed to keep his senses until he was dropped ignominiously onto an obsidian granite floor. 

"There's no need to shout," a cool drawl came from behind him, sounding suspiciously familiar. "Really, those from the upper Realms are always blundering around, knocking things over and dropping into my Realm as if they are welcome here." Violently nauseous and dizzy, the God of Thunder managed to roll over to see the tall creature standing before him, hands on hips and an irritated expression on the half of her face that appeared remotely alive. It was Hela. "Indeed, I am Queen of the Underworld," she drawled, "but I don't suppose you're here to see me." She scowled, "No one ever is. You're here to see my father, of course."

Thor choked out, "Loki? He is here? He is-" and he suddenly bent over and vomited at Hela's feet.

Staring down, Hela growled, "And _this_ is why I never have guests!" There was a cool gust of air from behind Thor's sore, heated face and he watched his humiliating puddle of sick disappear from the stone as another set of feet stopped in front of him, clad in beautifully tailored pine green boots with strong bronze accents.

And then his brother knelt, looking into his face and smiling wryly. "Welcome brother," he drawled, "it took you long enough."  

 

__________________________

 

"HEIMDALL! Golden boy! I know you can hear me!"

Fiona felt more than just vaguely foolish, standing on the rooftop of Stark Tower and yelling at the top of her lungs but she couldn't think of another way to access the golden-eyed watchman and Loki's asshole dad. In fact...

"Heimdall! Doan’ you go pretending here! I _know_ you can see me!"

...In fact she was wondering if she would be able to keep her temper with that cold-hearted old bastard and avoid getting squashed like a bug. It was clear he had no intention of helping them with the hellish threat of the Titan, but surely, she could make him see that it was in his best interests and that of the other Realms to assist them in killing off Thanos and his freaky as fuck offspring. She'd not seen them disappear after she lost consciousness, but Fiona sincerely hoped that at least one or two of those assholes didn't make it. "HEIMDALL!" she shouted again at the top of her lungs.

"What in the name of the nine Realms are you doing?" The bellowing voice behind her completely normal, as if he had not disappeared earlier that day and as if there was not a psychotic purple Titan bent on destroying their entire planet who was mere moments away.

"Thor!" Fiona screamed with excitement, racing over to leap on him, climbing up like a spider monkey as he hugged her. "Where the fuck have you been, you Asgardian dickhead? I've been screamin’ for your golden-eyed buachaill a’lainn and I know he's been ignoring me!"

The God of Thunder looked remarkably rested and his usual happy, optimistic self- unlike the broken, despairing creature she'd sat with that morning. Feeling vaguely irritated by this, Fiona looked at Thor suspiciously. "Where have you been?"

A kind smile crossed his face and he patted her cheek as gently as he could manage -which was not quite a slap hard enough to knock her over. "I have been gathering 'Intel,'" he said proudly, drawing out the phrase he'd learned from the other Avengers.

Climbing down off of him like he was an oak tree, Fiona eyed him. "Intel?" she questioned, "what sort of Intel?"

Thor looked up into the sky flinching as he saw the gathering darkness, an inky, oily sort of blight that turned the edges of the purples and blacks in the night sky to an impenetrable nothingness. "We have little time," he said solemnly.

Fiona scoffed irritably, "That's what I've been trying to say!" she snarled.

But Thor's face was serious, and he put his heavy paws on her shoulders, making her knees buckle. "Sister, I have something of great importance to tell you, but you must allow me to finish before you speak." Fiona's brow creased, but she nodded as the gigantic blond took a deep breath. "I... sister... Loki is not dead."

This time Fiona's knees did buckle, and Thor followed her as she knelt abruptly on the roof's surface. "He..." for the first time in her overly chatty life, the Banshee couldn't speak.

Thor nodded encouragingly. "He is in the realm of Hel- as I said this morning, it is different than your... 'Judeo-Christian' one? Loki died, but-“ he was floundering, trying to explain something he wasn't sure of himself. "When he knew Thanos would defeat him, he sent his soul to safekeeping as the monster took his body." Fiona nodded rapidly. It was all she could seem to do so she nodded harder. "He was trying to send me a message about what he was doing," Thor said ruefully, "I did not understand until we spoke today."

Wiping her streaming eyes, Fiona finally managed, "He told me that 'The sun will shine on us again-‘" she broke off into a bout of uncontrollable sobbing. It was only Thor's expression of acute anxiety that stopped it. "You hate the crying females, eh? Freaks you out? I'm so happy brother!" Valiantly swallowing down another round of sobbing, she nodded some more. "So you went to Hel to get him? Where is he?"

Here, Thor's expression turned sheepish. "Yes, I did. But I could not bring him back."

"WHY?" Fiona was aware she was gripping the god's tunic and part of the skin underneath- her fingernails really were quite sharp- but she gripped harder. "Why NOT, Thor?"

"He is not alive!" he shouted, squirming a bit and trying to remove her death grip on his pectoral.

"But- you said-"

Thor patted Fiona helplessly, trying to calm her down. "He is not dead, sister. But... he is not alive, either. Without the right seidr, he cannot reunite with his body and return from Hel. There is a powerful geas that binds Loki to the underworld. Without an equally powerful one here on the side of the living, he is trapped."

Fiona had been nodding so much she was getting dizzy, so she pulled her nails out of her (potential) brother in law's skin. ignoring his sigh of relief as she rubbed her aching temples. "So, my Loki is not dead," she sighed. "This is good. We can work with this. But he can't return without the mother of all magic mojos. Okay. Who has one of those?"

He was forcing a smile, Fiona could tell, but Thor's tone was confident. “My father. Odin."

Fiona's smile died. That fucking asshole? The douchebag that allowed her Loki to suffer, who wouldn't let him heal himself? Who punished him even though his cruelty sent Loki over the edge of the Bifrost in the first place? Taking a breath, she summoned an expression of deep gratitude. "How does this look? Will the Alldaddy buy it?"

"Please, Lady Fiona," Thor groaned, "do not call him that, please. You must be... gracious?"

Rising off the ground, Fiona dusted off her jeans. "I can do gracious. I promise."

Raising one fist sharply upwards, wielding Mjölnir, Thor's chest swelled as lightning crackled around him, an admittedly impressive display. "Heimdall!" he shouted, "Bring us home please!"

Fiona had one second to breathe as Thor grabbed her around the waist, choking the life out of her as she muttered, "Why, just exactly whatI was doing! Lovely to note that Heimdall's paying attention to-" the last of the sentence came out of her mouth as she stood in the gold atrium, _"-someone."_  There he was, she thought sourly just as Loki had described him- 75,000 feet tall, golden eyes and- sweet baby Jesus, those muscles! Bulging muscles upon muscles as if his muscles are having baby muscles and– Fiona abruptly halted her train of thought as the beautiful giant's lips worked in the barest hint of a smile as he watched her stare at him.

"Welcome home, Prince Thor," he intoned gravely at the gigantic blond who was brushing off his armor.

"Well met, Heimdall," he returned, a huge grin on his face, "I must see my father immediately."

The golden-eyed giant's expression shaded just slightly. "The Allfather is indeed requesting your presence, Prince, but the mortal is required to stay here. She is not allowed to touch the Bifrost or the sacred realm of Asgard."

"What?" screeched Fiona, "What, like I'm one of the weird fruits you can't bring into Australia? What the hell does that mean?" 

"Sister," placated Thor, "I should speak with my father and return–"

"Wait, Thor," she interrupted, "I have a plan! I know how we can defeat Thanos but I’m needing to stand on the Bifrost to do it- I have been there before you know." 

"And you should have been executed for it," said an icy voice, dripping unpleasantly down her spine like a spilled drink.

They'd been instantly been transported into an appropriately cavernous throne room, Fiona thought, typical for an overblown asshole like Odin. Not quite rolling her eyes, the girl flinched for a moment before she realized Loki's hand would not be landing on her backside. Shutting down her pain, she looked directly at the one-eyed giant high above them, seated on his throne, a wrinkled claw gripping Gungnir. "Father," Thor started, "allow me to introduce you to-"

"It does not require a name nor an introduction," Odin interrupted, waving his other liver spotted hand dismissively. "It is here only because your brother is not. It will stand in his place and answer for the inexcusable crime- of the _desecration_ of the Bifrost."

Fiona cackled, "IT? I feel so diminished, you didn't even favor me with a proper pronoun, your Highness- goodness, I'm all busted up! You think that's the worst thing anyone's ever said to me?" She cackled some more before realizing that Thor was not joining in and was indeed shifting anxiously from side to side. Clearing her throat, Fiona attempted a sketchy curtsey. "My apologies, Allfather since you see everything-" she barely manage to bite off the edge of sarcasm on that sentence trying to rein herself in, "then you already know that purple pile of puss is back on his way to Earth, probably with plenty of reinforcement since we kicked his kid's asses clear back to the Stone Age." Odin was staring down at her with a mixture of disgust and repugnance, an expression he might wear if a donkey suddenly wandered up and took a shit on his golden boots. "I'm sure you have a plan..." she finished, managing a greasy insolent smile that was clearly a mistake. This became clear as poor Thor actually stepped in front of her when it looked like his father was pointing Gungnir, ready to turn her into a damp spot on his fancy stone floor.

"Father!" he exclaimed, "Loki- your son, my brother is still alive! He sacrificed himself for us battling against Thanos, but he is resting in the realm of his daughter."

Fiona's eyebrows shot up. "Daughter? Loki's been _married?_  You tell me I’ve not been dating a married man!"

Even Thor rolled his eyes at this point, "No, sister- it is a long story and better for another time." Turning back to his father, who had lapsed into an expression of incredulity, he tried again, "Loki cannot find the magic to leave his haven, it is darker and more powerful that even he is capable of, but I am sure that you can-"

"I would not bring your brother back," Odin interrupted, "he has made his choice. We have no intention of engaging with the Titan. This conflict is of Midgard's making, and thus their battle to wage."

Thor and Fiona made identical noises of shock and frustration and the girl foolishly tried one more time. "It's not like I was expecting you to jump in,” she said, "but Allfather, you know he has at least two of the Infinity Stones, and I suspect more by now. If that lavender psycho finds them all, even you won't be able to defeat him." She was so angry that she couldn't believe that the stone under her feet had not set on fire. "Oh... Of course," she laughed bitterly, "we're your cannon fodder, aren't we? The first unit you send out to get slaughtered while you're thinking about strategy, eh?"

His single eye glared hatefully into hers. "Mortals," he said contemptuously, "your pitiful lives come and go so quickly. You will not be missed."

"Father!" Thor protested, but then stopped, not sure what else to say.

'Steady girl,' Fiona counseled herself, "if you go after this asshole the way you want to, he's going to do something else incredibly stupid just for spite.' Gritting her teeth, she nodded. "I am certain I can see why you would think that Allfather," she managed, "nonetheless, if we can tidy up your mess before _you_ have to deal with Thanos, wouldn't that be so much better? I sang the song of the Universe there on the Bifrost. Allowing us to meet the Titan there, I know we can take him and we can send his psycho shock troops back to whatever inter-dimensional toilet he's been keeping them in." She could tell she was making zero headway with the one eyeballed bastard, and Fiona's fury rose. "Mother of Mary," she snarled, wiping her forehead, "it must be 300 degrees in here! And why hasn't Asgard- the most _enlightened_ of all the Realms ever heard of central air?" A violent pull just above her navel felt like a fist had wrapped around her spine and yanked her backwards. It was excruciatingly painful and she could do nothing but gasp until she landed flat on her back on the roof of Stark Tower again.

Thor returned moments later. "I'm sorry sister," he groaned, attempting to help her sit up.

"That could have gone better," Fiona wheezed, "please help me up, let's go talk to the rest of the Admirers."

"It's the Avengers, Lady Fio-" this time, Thor just gave up. The next six hours were nothing but a blur of black coffee, questions and feverish drawings with Sharpies on Stark's expensive textured walls, everyone trying to think of different strategy. Fiona dissolving into grateful tears as Thor spoke of Loki and his meeting in Hel.  

"But if Hela is his daughter- like however that happened," she said crossly, "can't he just order her to send him back?"

Thor rubbed his eyes that were turning bloodshot even if he was a God and above such things as exhaustion and anxiety. "There is more to it, sister," he tried to explain again, "Loki requires a dark seidr- a connection from the side of the living, and my father will not provide it. Loki and I wandered for what seemed like days trying to find our way out of the Shadowlands."

"I don't get it?" Tony was putting some Bailey's Irish Cream in his coffee until Fiona's glare made him stop. "Loki's the sneakiest bastard I know, living or dead. How could he not have wiggled his way out of this?"

"As powerful as my brother's seidr may be," Thor said gravely, "even he does not control life and death."

"But he's not dead!" protested Fiona. A smile spread over her flushed face. "My Loki's not dead. So we help him find a way home."

Natasha, ever practical pointed out the painfully obvious. "Bringing Loki back may not even be an issue if Thanos chooses to attack first. And Odin- ugh! Sorry Thor-" she nodded to the gloomy blond, "no offense."

"None taken," Thor agreed sadly.

"Odin," her nose twitched as if smelling something that had gone bad in the fridge, "won't help at all, even though Asgard's next if we can't take down Thanos."

Fiona leaned forward suddenly, biting her lip absently. "Odin won't. But maybe someone else will."

 

An hour later, they all dispersed to prepare, to do what they could to be ready. Fiona found herself walking to the little pocket park again, sitting on the grass to watch the sun come up, the oily, inky edges of Thanos's vile influence beginning to taint the skyline. Holding the bloody scrap of cloth- the favor torn from her skirt and given to Loki to take into battle, the girl rubbed it against her cheek, remembering Mavis's words. The fear and self-doubt nearly choked her for a moment. This was so much- so overwhelming and terrifying and dependent on their desperate strategy against a monster older than time that wanted nothing less than to kill them all, kill everything living on this planet. And then this time, she heard her mother's voice- not in her mind, used to comfort herself but Joycelynn's true voice. "You have been selected from a long line of your sisters for this moment in time."

Fiona's breath hitched, and she began to cry. "Ma..."

"Eh, no tears girl," her mother's voice gently teased. "For this moment in time. Your strength will be enough. You will be enough. Do you remember the song I used to sing to you before putting you to bed?"

"Aye," hiccupped Fiona.

"Sing for yourself." Joycelynn's voice was warm, the lilt of laughter her daughter had always loved dancing on the edges of her words.

Fiona sniffed. "What- I can do that?" She heard plain as day her mother's laughter as it rose over the trees, dancing away on the light morning breeze. Taking a deep breath, the girl sang.

 _"Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
_All your life_  
_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_

 _Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_  
_All your life_  
_You were only waiting for this moment to be free_

 _Blackbird fly, blackbird fly_  
_Into the light of the dark black night_

 _Blackbird fly, blackbird fly_  
_Into the light of the dark black night_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_

_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
_All your life_  
_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_  
_You were only waiting for this moment to arise_  
_You were only waiting for this moment to arise..."_

"I will have to be enough," she murmured, still wondering deep in her heart if she could be.

 

 

buachaill álainn - pretty boy

Blackbird - The Beatles

Open Your Heart - Madonna

Morning Has Broken - Cat Stevens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I somehow pictured Thor out there screaming "HEEELLLAAAA!" like Marlon Brando in "Streetcar Named Desire" and couldn't stop laughing. There's a lot of ineffectual screeching in this chapter.


	25. We Will Rock You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Fiona and the Avengers gather for the final battle against Thanos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for so many of your lovely suggestions for songs for this chapter- some I've never heard of- but I love them all now.

When Fiona opened her eyes, it was to utter darkness, black as night, as enveloping as velvet, as smothering as a hand over her mouth. But she wasn't frightened. No... not scared. Nervous? Briskly shaking her hands in an attempt to loosen up, the girl smiled wryly. Her Loki, he would call this... what? "A dispiriting case of stage fright? Really, darling. Such a pedestrian emotion from such a lovely goddess." She heard the words perfectly in Loki's voice, as if he was standing next to her. But Fiona was alone here, she knew that. But her Loki was alive. 

Alive.

Breathing deeply, the Banshee whispered to herself, "Dance, monkey. Dance." Her booted feet slammed down in a steady rhythm. Two quick thuds, one harder one, then repeat. Again and again, as her surroundings began to light up, a long, beautiful stretch of space, a path of shining silver ribbon that began to rotate with steady streaks of vivid color until a golden light encompassed it all like a sunrise. Preparing to sing, Fiona lovingly looked around her.

The Bifrost. 

 _"Buddy you're a boy make a big noise_  
_Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day_  
_You got mud on yo' face_  
_You big disgrace_  
_Kickin' your can all over the place_  
_Singin'_

 _We will we will rock you_  
_We will we will rock you_

 _Buddy you're a young man hard man_  
_Shoutin' in the street gonna take on the world some day_  
_You got blood on yo' face_  
_You big disgrace_  
_Wavin' your banner all over the place_

_We will we will rock you_  
_(Sing it!)_  
_We will we will rock you_

_Buddy you're an old man poor man_  
_Pleadin' with your eyes gonna make you some peace some day_  
_You got mud on your face_  
_Big disgrace_  
_Somebody better put you back into your place_

_We will we will rock you_  
_(Sing it!)_  
_We will we will rock you_

_We will we will rock you_  
_We will we will rock you..."_

Each new thud of Fiona's boots started a reverberation down the path of the Bifrost, the colors beginning to leap and move with the rhythm, sparking joyfully. And one by one, the other Avengers popped abruptly onto the Bifrost. Some, like the Soldier simply hunched his shoulders and settled his weapons in place, poor Bruce stumbled, his face pale and nearly pitching over the side into null space before Fiona seized him by the arm. There was no time for a final pep talk, because the rumbling began, sounding first like an earthquake, then building to a tornado, then like the agonized screams of a million souls being blotted out into nothingness. Thanos was here, and oh, he was so very _eager_ for a fight.

_"I've paid my dues_  
_Time after time._  
_I've done my sentence_  
_But committed no crime._

_And bad mistakes‒_  
_I've made a few._  
_I've had my share of sand kicked in my face_  
_But I've come through._

_And I need to go on and on, and on, and on._

_We are the champions, my friends._  
_And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end._  
_We are the champions._  
_We are the champions._  
_No time for losers_  
_'Cause we are the champions of the world..."_

Fiona's defiant song cut through the horror of the Titan's approach, and even Stark had a moment to whoop triumphantly in his helmet's mic, shouting, "Fuck yeah, Queen! That's right!"

This time, Fiona was prepared and she could feel it- feel the filth of Thanos's power behind her, ready to wrap her entire head in some kind of hideous iron helmet and cage her voice until the bird never sang again. But there was love this time. Her love for Loki. For her people. For the Avengers. Laughing giddily, she belted out her next song with all the power and poison and beauty of her voice, thinking of Loki's reluctant smile and knowing he was smiling for her.

_"Love rescue me_  
_Come forth and speak to me_  
_Raise me up and don't let me fall_  
_No man is my enemy_  
_My own hands imprison me_  
_Love rescue me_

_Many strangers have I met_  
_On the road to my regret_  
_Many lost who seek to find themselves in me_  
_They ask me to reveal_  
_The very thoughts they would conceal_  
_Love rescue me_

_Yea, though I walk_  
_In the valley of shadow_  
_Yea, I will fear no evil_  
_I have cursed thy rod and staff_  
_They no longer comfort me_  
_Love rescue me_  
_Sha la …"_

Fiona tap danced cheerfully through the flood of monstrous spawn from the Titan, forms and bodies that made no sense, whose very shape was unspeakable, glowing eyes bulging with hate and their shrill chittering trying to silence her voice, trying to overwhelm it. But the love powering her voice rang clear and true, the very sound of it filling the Chitauri and other nightmarish troops with dread. Their misshapen arms flailed as they turned in every direction, confused and trying to just kill it- whatever it was that was tearing through their dark and disordered minds, muting the orders from their master and making them almost easy to destroy. The girl swirled gracefully by a thicket of Chitauri taken out by a blow from Thor's Mjölnir, watching Steve and the Soldier run through six of the beast-thingies almost instantly. Barton was struggling, trying to send his arrows out faster than he could string them at a crowd of advancing troops, and Fiona paused to belt out _"Love, rescue me!"_ at the top of her substantial lungs and watched several drop and dissolve into dust.

And in an un-gore drenched corner of the Bifrost's shining path, she pulled the ragged bit of bloody cloth torn from her skirt and given to Loki as a Lady's Favor by her beloved earth witch Mavis, who'd told him, "Doan’ let go of this. It'll see you safely home to her."

Kissing it tenderly, Fiona dropped it over the edge of the Bifrost, calling, "Come home to me, my Loki." She didn't have time to watch it flutter away, the thundering vibration of the Universe's path told her Thanos or his creatures were almost upon her.

"Pathetic creature..." the voice of Thanos was unbearable, horrifying, the stuff of nightmares that made children wake screaming and caused men to huddle in corners, holding their heads and rocking back and forth. "Calling to the False Prince to save you. He is meat. He is dust. But no fear, girl. You will meet him soon, after your pitiful life is spent in My service."

Fiona turned to face him. She could dimly hear the screams and screeches behind her, the roars and explosions, the cursing and shouts of one Avenger to another. But she and the Titan stood in a strange bubble of space. He towered above her, yellow eyes glowing malevolently and gigantic fist clenching. Looking down, the Banshee felt a shudder ripple down her spine when she realized the purple unspeakable's hand and forearm was covered by the golden gauntlet, with four of the Infinity Stones gleaming at the knuckles. "My goodness, Thanos," Fiona mockingly emphasised his name, enjoying the quick flash of fury as she refused to cower. The colors of the Bifrost were still dancing for her, though everything withered and turned to ash under the Titan's feet. But the girl drew on the spiraling blues and greens of the Ley Lines under her feet, the paths criss-crossing the Universe, just like her home. "Me? Little ol' me? I've pissed you off that much, eh? A bit short-tempered, then? Not getting laid on the regular?"

She heard his growl and felt his fury begin to rumble the Bifrost beneath her feet, so calling on the joy she'd felt the shining path connected with her, Fiona sang playfully, which of course enraged Thanos further. 

_"Take this pink ribbon off my eyes_  
_I'm exposed_  
_And it's no big surprise_  
_Don't you think I know_  
_Exactly where I stand_  
_This world is forcing me_  
_To hold your hand_  
_'Cause I'm just a girl, little ol' me_  
_Well don't let me out of your sight_  
_Oh, I'm just a girl, all pretty and petite_  
_So don't let me have any rights_  
_Oh, I've had it up to here!_

_The moment that I step outside_  
_So many reasons_  
_For me to run and hide_  
_I can't do the little things_  
_I hold so dear_  
_'Cause it's all those little things_  
_That I fear..."_

"Heavens, a big strong whatever the fuck you are should have taken us all out by now, shouldn't you?" Fiona was still tap-dancing happily, enjoying the clunky thud of her boots and the little ripples along the Bifrost. "You managed to kill and steal from enough innocent souls to make a fist of Infinity Stones. Why aren't they protecting your poor monster horde?" Her legs were beginning to shake, the painful sparks of his monstrous rage and hate beginning to dull the clear light of the Ley Lines, but she wouldn't stop dancing, or singing as the Titan's fist rose to crush her.

 _"Light of the world, shine on me_  
_Love is the answer (let it shine)_  
_Shine on us all, set us free_  
_Love is the answer (you know the answer is love)_

 _Tell me, are we alive, or just a dying planet?_  
_What are the chances?_

_Ask the man in your heart for the answers_

_And when you feel afraid, love one another_  
_When you've lost your way, love one another_  
_When you're all alone, love one another_  
_When you're far from home, love one another_  
_When you're down and out, love one another_  
_All your hope's run out, love one another_  
_When you need a friend, love one another_  
_When you're near the end, love_  
_We got to love, we got to love one another..."_

There was blood beading at the corners of Fiona's mouth and eyes, and her legs felt like they'd been set on fire, but she kept dancing. Even if Thanos somehow managed to silence her, the Bifrost would stay strong if she could dance to it's rhythm. "You're tiring, insect," Thanos said, almost genially as his fist clenched again, making the golden gauntlet creak and groan. "You think your little group can stop me? Kill all my troops, they are mere cannon fodder. I will wipe the Universe clean of your mortal filth."

"Cannon fodder," snickered Fiona, fighting to avoid feeling the bitterness trying to rise, "you and Odin have so much in common." Her steps were slowing and her thoughts were confused. The Banshee struggled to come up with another song about love. 'It should be easy, right?' she thought, 'Nearly every song on the planet was written about love...' but the beads of blood from her eyes and mouth were streams now, and she couldn't feel her feet. But the girl kept dancing, kept humming as she tried to find the right lyrics.

The Titan's grin stretched to grotesque proportions. "Ah. Odin. He will require my attention next."

 

"I fear you will not last long enough to meet the Allfather," said a cool voice, as refreshing as a rainstorm and as beautiful as the rainbow that follows. "Though I must admit I would enjoy that." 

Fiona turned, and her entire being suffused with light. "Hello, my Loki. I knew you would come back to me."

 

 

"We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions" - Queen

"Love Come Rescue Me" - U2

"I'm Just A Girl" - No Doubt

"Love Is The Answer" - England Dan and John Ford Coley


	26. My Sky Full Of Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the final battle against Thanos and his monstrous horde comes to a finish. As does the life of one of those we love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been nearly two months since I've updated this story and it's one of my favorites, crap! There is one chapter left for Fiona and Loki after this, and then I can devote my time back to "The Reluctant Bride."

Fiona knew it was foolish to turn her back on the monstrous fuck intent on destroying her planet and everyone on it but... it was her Loki. Back from the dead and so beautiful, a smile on his face that could almost be characterized as tender as he gazed at her. "Hello darling," she gave a little shiver at the sound of his voice, caressing and pleased with her. "So very clever of you to send my Favor back so I could find you. Dear Mavis- along with being quite a delightful pervert- was an astoundingly powerful witch. I always underestimate earth magic, I must make a note-" 

The rest of Loki's musings about seidrs and earth magic was abruptly cut off when Fiona crumpled like a fist had driven into her abdomen. Thanos was not a patient monster, and he took advantage of her momentary lapse of attention to raise his gauntleted hand with a negligible gesture. The Banshee desperately opened her mouth to sing her defense, but blood poured forth instead. Within a second Loki's voice rang out in a sharp and vicious rebuke and to her shock, the agonizing pressure on her spine suddenly released and she spat out the last of the blood.

"Four Infinity Stones, Titan," Loki's voice was ice, sharp as a razor and blistering like frostbite. "And still pathetic, attacking from behind like a coward."

Thanos tilted his head, "False prince..." he rumbled, the sound of it boiling everyone around them with horror. "I do not know how you survived, but it is inconsequential. A petty trickster like you no doubt has many ways to preserve your useless hide. Live with the knowledge that the girl will serve me."

Shockingly, Loki laughed. It was clear and beautiful and the joyful sound of it startled everyone into stillness- the monsters looking confusedly back and forth at the Avengers and then at their master. "So ancient, and yet so unlearned," taunted Loki, "I am a rightful Prince of Asgard. The true King of Jotunheim. And you... you are sad relic of a past that's long been forgotten. Just as you soon will be."

The taunt made the purple behemoth before them swell to alarming proportions, the Bifrost underneath him cracking and splintering. Fiona felt herself lifted gently and held close as she breathed in the familiar smell of leather and pine, resting her head gratefully against his shoulder. "I've missed you, Daddy," she whispered. Fiona could feel the shielding Loki was throwing up around them to block Thanos, but nothing could hold out against those cursed Infinity Stones unless she started singing again.

"And I you, my angel," Loki's voice was it's most... Voiciest, deep, rich, a perfect mixture of tenderness and mischief. "We'll talk more after Daddy takes care of the bad man." Nodding and trying to stand straight, Fiona found that phantom grip of her insides had done more damage than she'd expected, and she spat away the blood, turning her head from Loki to keep him from seeing it.

Nonetheless, she started singing again. The men and Natasha were back to fighting the remains of the army of Thanos, covered in gore and unmentionable bits and pieces, and as endless as the Titan's army had seemed, it was being ruthlessly decimated. In the distance on the shimmering Bifrost, Fiona could see the noxious bulk of one of his monstrous children cutting through their own troops to reach his sire, followed by the vile first son she'd taken to calling Ugly Fucker. The tall, crazy blue girl and the thing that looked like a walking crocodile were missing and she sincerely wished they were dead. Ugly Fucker was limping badly, so he wasn't at full speed, the loathsome bastard. The coldly composed god behind her began closing in on Thanos, his long fingers moving rapidly, sparking wildly rotating flashes of light that seemed to match the movement of the Bifrost beneath them. Blood was beading up again in the Banshee's eyes, the corners of her mouth, but she twirled dreamily, singing the words she'd been waiting to give to her Loki. 

 _"Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_  
_I'm gonna give you my heart_  
_'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars_  
_'Cause you light up the path_   

 _I don't care, go on and tear me apart_  
_I don't care if you do ooh ooh_  
_'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars_  
_I think I saw you_

 _'Cause you're a sky, you're a sky full of stars_  
_Such a heavenly view_  
_You're such a heavenly view..."_

The dark prince was not idle, chanting harshly as his hands created a complicated swirl of light that seemed to gather over the purple head of Thanos, who growled his fury. But the Titan was on his own now, his children- what was left of them - were still struggling to reach him and his troops being battered and killed by the Avengers. But his gauntlet and those four Infinity Stones- he was holding his own, even with the combined force of Fiona's love and Loki's cold precision. Stark flew by, circling to fire something that looked like a rocket launcher at Thanos, the explosion barely leaving a mark. The Infinity Stones glowed coldly, indifferent to serving evil, simply radiating power and allowing the gauntlet holding them to wield their monstrous strength. "You're looking tired, you giant purple fuck," Fiona observed, humming as she launched into her next song. Thanos actually turned his vile head to regard her and suddenly smiled grimly, making the girl feel like her throat was filled with broken glass. In fact, Fiona was forced to spit out another mouthful of blood, but she grinned at him savagely, much like her ancestors would have gone into battle, teeth bloody and bared. It made the sweetness of her song even more incongruous.

 _I won't hesitate no more, no more_  
_It cannot wait, I'm yours_

 _Well open up your mind and see like me_  
_Open up your plans and damn you're free_  
_Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love_  
_Listen to the music of the moment people dance and sing_  
_We are just one big family_  
_And it's our God-forsaken right to be loved loved loved loved loved_

_But I won't hesitate no more, no more_  
_It cannot wait I'm yours_

_Well open up your mind and see like me_  
_Open up your plans and damn you're free_  
_Look into your heart and you'll find the sky is yours_  
_So please don't please don't please don't_  
_There's no need to complicate_  
_'Cause our time is short_  
_This, oh this, this is our fate, I'm yours..._

"Beautiful, darling!" shouted Loki, still circling the bloated bulk of Thanos, who was now growling like a bear, likely even unaware of the bestial grunts dripping between his clenched teeth. But it still wasn't enough.

The Titan's two loathsome offspring had finally made their way to their father's side, and Fiona faced off against them, back to back with Loki and feeling him brace her shaky legs. "...sisters..." she murmured, absently wiping away the blood beading from her eyes, "I canna... I'm needing you now."

Ugly Fucker drew himself up in a haughty, amused way, his spidery fingers absently twitching. "A pity to see something potentially useful to our Lord brought so low," he sneered, oily and obsequious as he glanced at his father, who was ignoring his children as he fought to find a way through Loki's defenses. "But in the end you will submit. Or die, like your False Prince."

Suddenly, Fiona laughed, a hugely joyful sound that cleared her head. "You ain't keeping up on current events, you vile toad. Prince Loki as you can see, is quite alive and well. Though the same will not be said of you in a moment." She could feel them, shimmering along the Bifrost and gathering strength as they spun and swirled together. Her sisters, in a long line from the beginning of the beginnings on Earth and dancing as they joined her.

_It's a tiny blue marble_  
_Who'd have thought the ground we stand on_  
_Could be so fragile_

_This is a love song to the earth_

_A diamond in the universe_  
_Heaven's poetry to us_  
_Keep it safe_  
_Keep it safe_  
_Keep it safe_  
_'Cause it's our world_  
_It's our world_

_It's not about possessions,_

_Money or religion_  
_How many years we might live_  
_When the only real question_  
_That matters is still a matter of perspective_

_Looking down from up on the moon_  
_You're a tiny blue marble_  
_Who'd have thought the ground we stand on_  
_Could be so fragile_

_This is a love song to the earth_  
_A diamond in the universe_  
_Heaven's poetry to us (Heaven's poetry to us)_  
_Keep it safe (Keep it safe)_  
_Keep it safe (Keep it safe)_  
_Keep it safe_  
_(Special paradise)_

The music crackled and swirled through the figures, misty but still somehow substantial, humming along with Fiona's song in a beautifully resonant harmonic, dipping in and out as the bodies of the remaining children of Thanos began to turn to dust, a cruel tribute to the Titan's plan for the Earth. Fiona danced and sang, arms spread wide and moving between her sisters. The moment was perfection, a sense of belonging she had never felt before, surrounded by those who'd gone before her. And yet she was still spitefully pleased to see the horror on the face of Ugly Fucker, his withered mouth struggling to wail as he simply dissolved. The music seemed to galvanize their brothers in arms, Cap's shield spraying green blood as it sliced through another thicket of Chitauri, the howl of the Hulk sounding just before a thud that nearly shook the Bifrost with the splintering sound of bone and flesh under his fists and feet. And then her sisters circled Thanos, who seemed suddenly aware of them, his growl rising in pitch and volume, the sound of being burned alive, of being carved into meat, forcing everyone to feel the agony and horror of his unspeakable howls. Loki's voice was rising too, harsh, vicious curses that made his beautifully deep voice clipped and brutal. The Titan's massive arms began to pinwheel awkwardly, forcing back in angles that seemed impossible with a speed that should have torn them from his body.

The Mind Stone was first to release from the iron glove Thanos wore. Only right that it flew to Loki- who'd borne it at such a cost when he attempted to conquer Earth. It phased into the Prince's chest, making him gasp and choke for a moment. The glowing blue of the Space Stone was next, blazing down the Bifrost like a streak of fire. Fiona tried to trace it's path but was distracted as the Reality Stone broke free of the howling Titan's grasp, shimmering elegantly in mid air before simply vanishing. And then the girl was knocked off her feet, back slamming on to the Bifrost, driving the breath from her body and causing her to choke on the blood welling up in her mouth and nose. There was a terrible pain in Fiona's chest, and one limp hand attempted to touch her sternum, certain there would be a gaping hole. 'Guess that purple fuck did more damage than I thought...' it was a distant conjecture, she tried to figure out what exactly was happening with her failing body as Loki's arms slammed forward, his voice roaring in a Dead Language that finally made the mighty Thanos scream. He screamed like a rabbit in a snare, even kicking his legs as he toppled backwards, black blood flying everywhere.

"Really, darling. I'm quite disappointed." 

It was surprising how clearly Hela's voice rang out over the scorched battlefield of the Bifrost. She calmly strolled towards them as if out on a walk in the country, if such a thing was done in a terrifying display of black and emerald armor and massive stag's horns, black as pitch, rising from her head. "My- my lady," the revolting voice was garbled with blood and broken teeth, but Thanos struggled to rise, urine-yellow eyes focused adoringly on the Queen of Hel. "It is for you, my lady," he grunted, "all for you!"

Hela sniffed elegantly, hands on hips. "My dear Thanos," she purred in a voice so similar to Loki's, "no sense of restraint. If you take them all and send them to me, the Hall of Souls is full. Who then do I gather? Who is there to await my judgement? You would destroy my purpose in your misguided attempts to please me?"

What was left of the lavender bulk, pale and dripping blood as foul as offal and tar stirred in confusion. "All... it was for you?" Thanos's crushed jaw could barely move, but he attempted to press his suit.

Sighing with the aggrieved tone of one burdened with far too much, Hela leaved over what was left of her monstrous suitor. "I do appreciate the gesture, darling. And now you may rest. We shall dine in Hel, you will tell me your stories and we will be together."

The look of hope on the Titan's demolished face was almost childlike. "Together..."

Her left hand- the withered, skeletal one- reached down, pulling the essence of Thanos  from the remains of his body, watching his physical form turn to dust as she suddenly clenched her fist. The twisted, smoking remains of the metal glove that made Thanos unstoppable clanged to the Bifrost, hissing against the wildly rotating colors. Fiona realized it was quiet. Her sisters were gone, the Titan's army dead and her people- those she fought alongside- were all alive. Battered and bloody, but alive. They were limping closer, staring at the terrifying visage of the Queen of Hel. "I hope you're happy, Father dear," if such a thing were possible, it almost sounded like Hela was pouting. "That fool was the last of my gentlemen callers. I suppose I shall be alone for eternity."

"I appreciate your personal sacrifice, darling," soothed Loki, moving swiftly past his daughter to take Fiona in his arms. His sudden look of shock as she moaned in agony made the girl feel vaguely sad for upsetting him. "My sweet Fiona," his voice was shaking, her beautiful Loki, and his bloody hands were trying to send a healing energy through her. But she was so blasted cold. It was really chilly here on the Bifrost, Fiona thought vaguely, was it always this cold? "My love, you- darling, you must-" the Prince's sonorous tone was gone, he kept repeating anxious assurances that broke off halfway through the sentence as he found each new wound on her body. "Lovely, you must- stay here, my Fiona- you can't- you-"

Fiona's dimming gaze registered Hela turning to walk over to her, head tilted as she examined the girl. Her voice was firm, but not unkind. "It is time, dear. Say goodbye."

"WHAT?" The furious, terrified howl from Loki made everyone race to them, their natural antipathy towards Hela forgotten as they reached Fiona's broken body.

"Doll- Fi? Wait, just-" Bucky was trying to touch her but Loki held her closer, letting out a sob as she groaned in pain.

"Give me- I can look- let me treat her-" Bruce had downsized faster from being the Hulk than in any time in their long and uneasy history together, trying to find where Fiona was most grievously injured.

“YOU WILL NOT HAVE HER!” Loki was shouting at his daughter, his terror and fury making the surface of the Bifrost ripple. But Hela was unmoved, simply shaking her head at her sire.

“It is not your choice to make. Nor is it mine. But her time is done here.” Her single good eye turned to gaze at Fiona again.

The girl let out a sigh. She’d fought her entire life against everything and everyone. Those trying to hurt her. Those trying to help her. But she was tired now. It would feel good to just… sleep. The tears ran pink from her eyes as she smiled up at the distraught god holding her in his arms, rocking her mindlessly. “I wish…” she managed, “I wish we'd had more time. Thank you for loving me. My Loki.” He was weeping now, hoarse, desperate sobs as he tried to negotiate with Hela and also soothe Fiona at the same time. “My sky full of stars…”

 

And she was gone, drifting away on a breeze left by Hela’s sudden departure.

 

 

"Sky Full Of Stars" - Coldplay

"I'm Yours" - Jason Mraz

"Keep It Safe" - Paul McCartney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken the original, bizarre courtship of Thanos and Hela from the earlier stories, where the Titan was in love with Death and sought to end all life in the Nine Realms as his gift to her. The whole 50% thingie was dreamt up by Marvel.


	27. "I Did Too Die!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Loki and Fiona must find their way back to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two of my most beloved stories finished in the same week! I'm feeling oddly weepy. Thank you again for reading, and your lovely comments, suggestions and support. You all mean a great deal to me.

 

Because no one had timing like Odin, there was a magnificent roar as the Bifrost was suddenly re-lit with a cold blue light as the Allfather galloped majestically down the path to the battered, bloody fighters. The Einherjar followed him, swords raised and looking suitably stern.

Natasha leaned heavily against Banner, feeling her broken wrist begin to flop uselessly. "Let me guess. Thor's father? A little late to the party?"

Bruce looked around at the grisly piles of bodies, torn apart, beheaded, stabbed, disemboweled. They were ankle deep in blood and intestines. "This doesn't look like a party."

Loki seemed not to hear his father's approach, still seated and arms still in the position he'd held Fiona in. He was staring blankly at his empty hands, stunned silent. Thor sighed deeply, hefting Mjölnir to his massive shoulder and moving forward to meet the AllFather as his horse reared majestically. "Father." he said dully, no welcoming smile or his usual eager desire to please Odin.

"YOU HAVE DISOBEYED ME!" the one-eyed god roared. "You went against my direct orders! You have brought-" here, Odin's face twisted in a sneer, _"Midgardians,"_ he spat, "to the sacred realm of the Bifrost! What have you to say for yourself?"

Now, Loki was paying attention. "What have we to say..." he chuckled. Thor's feet shifted uneasily. His brother's tone was deep and rich, the sound that indicated Loki was about to let loose with a monologue designed to crush his audience. "Your timing, _Father-"_ he spat back, "is magnificent, truly. Just moments after the Midgardians you despise devastated the army of Thanos. His. Entire. Force. And the girl you so held in such contempt-" Loki's beautiful voice broke, stopping his furious invectives.

Odin's chin lifted. "I do not concern myself with the life of one inconsequential mortal." Nonetheless, the brothers noted his single eye moved over the exhausted, filthy group, searching for Fiona.

"You should." Thor's voice was loud, as always, but firm and the growing fury beneath it made the Einherjar behind them shift uneasily. "She gave her life to defeat Thanos. She brought back your son after you refused-" He reached down as Loki slowly rose to stand beside him, and for the first time, his brother accepted his huge paw to assist him. "And as you sat on your throne, they defeated the Thanos. They destroyed him, the oldest and most powerful of the Titans. What did you call our friends? 'Cannon fodder?'" Thor spat the words as if they tasted bitter. 

Behind him, he could hear a low growl from the Soldier and an angry huff from Stark as his visor slid back, revealing his furious face. “Point Break here told us you wouldn’t have our backs. But you were just sitting back and eating popcorn, watching the show, huh? What the hell is-”

Odin slammed down Gungnir, enjoying the sparks and flames rising from the Bifrost, making it rumble under everyone’s feet. Looking down his nose at the group before him, he was disconcerted to see even the lowly Midgardians did not appear to be cowering in fear and awe. In fact, their expressions were changing from exhausted and moving to furious and unpleasant.

“YOU WILL BE SILENT!” Odin thundered, expecting them to cower, these impudent insects! Instead, they turned as Thor gestured at them.

“Let’s go home,” he said heavily, realizing that when he spoke of home, he meant Midgard.

Loki stood silently, feet wide apart in his usual arrogant stance and stared at the man who’d raised him, expressionless. Once, he would have done anything to please Odin- _had_ done everything to please him- and now he saw nothing but the Allfather’s liver-spotted hand, angry, fearful, and shaking as he gripped Gungnir.

“You’re not aging well, old man,” Loki finally observed dispassionately. He turned to trudge after his brother and their… friends? He chuckled humorlessly. They were the closest thing he had.

“THOR! LOKI!” They could hear Odin roaring after them, “YOU WILL NOT TURN YOUR BACKS ON ME! YOU WILL RETURN TO ASGARD IMMEDIATELY!”

They never looked back.

______________________________________

 

"I never had a clear vision of the afterlife," Fiona noted as she limped obediently behind Hela, "but I wasn't planning on the Old Norse version. I figured I'd get the Celtic one, where there's lots of drinking and getting shitfaced and singing."

Her dark hostess chuckled unpleasantly, the skeletal left side of her whistling empty air. "That would be Valhalla. You are not meant for there."

Fiona was pretty sure Loki’s daughter had done… something, because at the moment, she didn’t feel all that upset about being dead and never seeing her Loki again. The feeling in her chest of being torn open was gone, though her injuries were definitely making themselves known. But she didn’t _feel_ dead. ”Well that seems a little elitist,” she said crossly, “is this one of those Aryan things? I’m not blonde, so-”

“You’re very annoying,” the Queen of Hel interrupted her, “it’s a miracle my father didn’t murder you. Traditionally, he had very little patience for a yappy little thing like you.”

Rolling her eyes, Fiona’s hand still went protectively to her cover her ass. ‘Even in the afterlife I’m worried about a spanking!’ she thought sourly.

Following the tall, cadaverously thin daughter of Loki to a series of chambers, Fiona found herself increasingly alarmed as they passed by pits of flaming tar, trapping wailing souls within. Another chamber held spirits spinning and twisting in mid air, arms flailing as they rotated endlessly, groaning in agony. Hela was sedately strolling along, enjoying the screams and groans. Her eyes- one an emerald green and the other a diseased milky orb, glanced back at Fiona, whose steps were slowing as she witnessed their suffering. “Do not waste your pity. These are murderers and rapists, the monstrous instruments of torment and torture. They have earned their place here.” Fiona nodded jerkily and hurried to follow more closely.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked. Her hostess had finally paused in front of what looked like a lake of fire. Fiona could feel the heat from the flames, smell the soot and a smell like… burned pork?

Hela was attempting to smile, the ruined half of her face dragging her mouth into a grimace. “Something I think you’ll enjoy. Thanos’s eternal prison.”

With a gag, Fiona realized the smell she’d thought was burning meat was in fact the purple skin burning off the Titan’s flesh, cold blue flames retreating to allow it to cover his charred bones and muscle before burning it off again, his mouth opened in a silent scream. His head was thrown backward, those nauseating yellow eyes staring at the roof of the cavern, huge chest heaving convulsively and hands strained, stretching out for rescue. His howls of agony were silent, for which Fiona was deeply grateful. The horror of the monster's voice would be unbearable to hear. it almost seemed like Thanos would tear free from his bonds as he strained to escape the flames, and as one arm came loose, a torrent of nauseating, beetle-like creatures tore through his flesh with their pincers, stripping him to the bone in seconds. “I thought his body… dissolved? How are you doing this?” Fiona gagged again as one of the beetles lifted it's razor sharp pincers ripped his re-grown tongue free from his open mouth. When she looked sideways, she finally saw the true face of the Queen of Hel. Vicious, cold, cruel.

“The Titan believes his body is real. Thus, he suffers as if it is. Do you know…” Hela circled the pit of torment that held her former suitor. “This is one of the many torments he visited upon my father. One of the least excruciating, really.”

Firming her lips and trying not to cry, Fiona finally felt the hammer blow of grief. Her Loki. He would live for another ten thousand years. While she remained… here? “I know,” she finally said, “I witnessed some of the things they-“ she fought back a dry heave at the memory and the smell of searing flesh, “-those evil fucks did to him in my dreams. I think Thanos sent them to me to taunt me. He expected me to offer myself in exchange for Loki’s life.”

Now Hela arched a dark brow, so like her sire. “And you would not have done so? What about true love?” Her tone was mocking, but Fiona was too immersed in her memories to care.

“I lived through nearly a decade of torture from a rat bastard named Kahn. He enjoyed offering me deals and bargains to ‘save’ people. No matter what I did, no matter how desperately I tried to behave, he killed them anyway. Slowly, usually, and always in front of me. I dinna bargain. I learned to bide my time until I can kill the monsters. But it was never as satisfying as this,” she nodded at the suffering Titan. “He deserves an eternity of torture and every kind of suffering you can put him through. Not just for my- for Loki- but for millions of others.”

Folding her arms, Hela watched the Titan’s agony indifferently. “And he will. I am delightfully creative.” Turning to leave the lake of blue fire, she casually said, “You’re not the first of my father’s women to be sent here before their time, you know.”

“Wha-“ a unreasoning hope was suddenly nearly choking Fiona, “b- before my time?”

“The last one he sent here was from Thanos’s unspeakable keep, a whore, I believe.” Hela was circling Fiona, looking her over carefully.

“She wasn’t a whore!” the girl disagreed sharply, “Her name was Marilena and she saved the last bit of good left in Loki after what…” she face twisted in grief, “after what that purple fuck and his revolting offspring did to him. He told me you sent her home. To Vanaheim.”

“Yessss…” Hela drew out the word disapprovingly. “She’s lived well, I don’t think I’ll be getting that one back. Ah, well.” Suddenly all business, she stepped closer to Fiona, who forced herself to not step back. “What to do with you?” She rapped one black-tipped nail against her cheek, “Remove the Stone? Send you back to those… tedious defenders of the faith?”

Fiona’s breath came out in a convulsive heave, one hand flying up to her neck. “My throat- my chest- they felt like they’d been ripped open when the Infinity Stones… when the last one- the Power Stone flew from Thanos’s glove?”

Pouring a glass of wine, the Queen of Hel shrugged. “Yes. It’s in you. Just as the Space Stone is currently inhabiting the seventh chakra inside my father. The Power Stone is in your sixth chakra-“ she tapped the base of Fiona’s throat. “But, whereas my father is a God, you are not. I am not quite certain what you are. Keeping the Stone within you could kill you. Or, it could bind you to Loki forever. Immortal, for all intents and purposes.” Hela leaned closer, and the girl swallowed down a gurgle of fear. “I cannot say what the Nornir have weaved into your tapestry, but… the two of you, both bearing the Infinity Stones. It is incalculable power. Do you think your ‘goodness’ can keep my father from gorging in that power, rolling in it like a hippo in the muck of the Nile?”

“He is not that heartbroken boy who let go into the Void,” Fiona said steadily, “he’s not the brutalized man who returned to take over Earth- Midgard, whatever. He’s more. You had to have seen it when he was here with you.”

Hela eyed her curiously, coughing as the wine spilled down the skeletal side of her. “He stood in the fields with my Helhounds, looking up. For days. When your Favor drifted down to him, he dropped to his knees and…” Fiona was pleased to see Loki’s daughter looked vaguely nauseated, “and kissed the bloody, filthy bit of cloth. Brought so low by love!” Hela spat, “Disgusting.”

“And if I want it out?”

“I can take it from you,” Hela yawned. “It would be very unpleasant, but you are used to that sort of thing. And it goes… well, I don’t know where it goes, only that the Power Stone is a living entity. It cannot stay in the House of the Dead.”

“I have to believe it came to me- that the Space Stone came to Loki- for a reason,” mused Fiona despondently. She could feel it inside her, a faint whisper. She didn’t like it. But, it was there.

 _______________________________________

 

“Reindeer Games- you can stay here man, you can chill as long as you want, okay?” Stark was pouring his fifth drink, still battered and sweaty from his suit. Natasha, Barton and Banner had staggered off to their apartments to shower and bandage their wounds. But Steve and Bucky wouldn’t leave them, sitting silently close by. Thor was pacing, running his hands over and over in his bloody hair. And Loki sat silently in a chair overlooking the city, hands on his thighs and staring blankly out the window.

Bucky cleared his throat. "But you came back, Loki. You came back from Hel. Can't Fi do the same?"

Suddenly brightening, Thor looked hopefully at his brother. “Indeed, can we not just… fetch her home?”

There was an ugly-sounding, choked laugh. “I sent myself to Hel before Thanos- that filth! Before he took my life. It is not the same with Fiona. Her body and soul were both taken. I do not know-” Loki broke off, rubbing his brow. “The life of a mortal is fragile. You disappear, I know not where after death. Even though my sweet girl is special, I cannot feel her. She is-” One huge hand covered his eyes, and everyone sat in respectful, regretful silence.

It didn't end there, of course. Loki stormed to the gates of Hel well before he was properly healed, using the last of his recovered seiðr. His impertinent, infuriating, disloyal fiend of a daughter did not answer. Did not allow him entrance. He found himself shouting fruitlessly, the same way that he’d mocked Thor for so mercilessly. The shades stumbled past him on their unknowable tasks in the Shadowlands, but they would not answer him, either.  Loki let out a roar of frustration and fury that cracked the earth beneath his feet and blew the insubstantial shades into shreds of dust and dirt. And Hela still would not answer him.

No one dared to bring up a memorial service for Fiona, and honestly- none of the Avengers wanted to hold one. As long as there was no funeral, it was possible that the girl would show up with her impertinent grin and unwillingness to call anyone by their correct names. But finally, Bruce, the one everyone could guilt into doing the right thing, approached Loki.

"You're not looking good, my friend." This of course was an accurate observation. Loki had not slept since the Battle of the Bifrost, (as Thor was already theatrically calling it) and spent most of his time pacing his huge living room or the roof of Stark Tower, refusing to eat or drink. Gingerly seating himself on dirty ground of the helicopter pad, he watched the Asgardian pace. Then pace some more. Finally getting dizzy, he rose to take Loki by the shoulder. "We need to talk- you need to think about what you want for Fiona's-"

"DO NOT SPEAK HER NAME!"

Running his hand wearily through his disordered hair, Bruce sighed, "Loki, we only want to help. We want to support you."

"Support ME?" Loki scoffed majestically. "You are all useless. If only Mavis were here with her impertinence and her Earth Magic, and..." he died off as poor Banner eyed him apprehensively. The God of Mischief was supernaturally still, mouth open mid-rant and thinking furiously. The carefully shielded Space Stone inside his head flared back into his consciousness and he gasped. He'd blocked everything to do with the Infinity Stone that had caused him so much grief over these past years. But finally the sight of their last moments on the Bifrost together hit him like a clenched fist. The pain of the blue stone seating inside him, trying to keep focused on the threat of the Titan but seeing from the corner of his eye Fiona convulse as if someone had torn her heart from her chest. But it wasn't being torn from her... something was tearing into her- the Power Stone. The Power Stone was inside his beloved. If it would have killed her, it would have been instantaneous. She would have exploded into tiny bits of matter. No, Fiona was alive and the Infinity Stone had made itself at home within her. "You FOOL!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, and then disappeared.

"Wait..." Bruce looked around, turning in a circle on the empty roof, "you mean, 'you fool!' to me? Or you're the fool? Or-?"

 

 ____________________________________

 

This time, Loki’s arrival at the Gates of Hel was spectacular- simply blowing the gates open as the slavering, vicious Helhounds whimpered and slunk away from him. “FIONA!” he roared, feeling the dank air of the Underworld fill his lungs with great satisfaction, feeling his strength return and power of the Stone tearing through his veins, igniting his blood. “Come to me! Your Lord is here.”

 

 ______________________________________

 

When Fiona had decided the keep the Power Stone- currently buried deep at the base of her throat, she thought perhaps that Hela would send her right home, the way she had for the sweet Marilena. But unfortunately, the Queen of Hel did not seem to be in any particular hurry. She’d graciously invited the girl to seat herself at the banquet table, groaning with every manner of deliciousness- fresh fruit, exquisitely prepared meats, towers of sweets and delicacies, fluffy muffins and an overflowing goblet of Redbreast whisky. "Redbreast..." Fiona whispered reverently. 

"Be seated. Eat." Hela waved one expansive hand over the feast.

Longingly staring at the food, Fiona shifted from one foot to the other. "Um, perhaps yer familiar with the Greek legends of Ear- I mean, Midgard?"

"Hmmmm?" the queen was lazily sipping from her goblet, poking at one of the cringing shades with a fork.

"The story of Hades and Persephone? The pomegranate?"

Brows draw into a faux show of concern, Hela looked over the massive table, groaning with food. "I do not see a pomegranate, but you have only to ask."

"That's not what I mean, I-" Fiona broke off with a choked gasp as the Stone- the thing living in her throat pulsed violently and she could suddenly hear Loki's heavy, furious steps heading for Hela's palace.

"Oh, lovely," snarled her hostess, "more fussing and shouting. Just what I was hoping for."

Her breath back, Fiona screamed it- with joy, delight, rapturous glee- "I FUCKING GET IT, DADDY! I CAN HEAR YOU! I'M COMING!" Ignoring her querulous hostess, she raced for the enormous ebony doors. She'd never run faster, her feet flew over the black quartz floors, just to nearly be blown backwards as the doors exploded wide. She was suddenly not in Hela's keep, but on a long line of grass withered grey on one side and a glorious green on the other. Loki was straddling the line with his arms open for her. Fiona started sobbing as his long arms wrapped around her tightly, her face buried in his neck. "I love you I love you I love-" her joyful babble was cut off as his ravenous mouth fastening greedily over hers. Gripping her thighs around his waist, Fiona sank her hands into his thick hair, grabbing luxurious handfuls as she sucked on his tongue. While Gods may not need to come up for air, the Banshee did and she started talking again the moment her mouth was free. "I heard you! Mavis- it was Mavis you were thinking of my Favor that brought you from Hel and back to me and you realized the Infinity Stones could break the hold on life and death and bring me-"

It was as if he wasn't paying any attention at all... was Fiona's last coherent thought as Loki not quite threw her on the ground and stripped her naked with an arrogant wave of the hand. And then his clothes were gone, his beautiful, marble-hard body gleaming even in the grey half-light of the Shadowlands border. A smile showed every one of his perfect white teeth and her Daddy lowered himself over her. "My darling, perfect, beautiful little girl," he approved, punctuating each word with a kiss, "never say those words to me again, wishing that we had more time. We have all the time in the Universe. I vow it." Fiona's long legs were wrapped around his narrow hips again with a barnacle like intensity and she rubbed against him shamelessly. 

Given that it was the second time one of them had returned from the dead, it might be expected that Loki would bring Fiona to some beautiful place, a space filled with flowers in the woods, a scented bower or a majestic bedroom in a castle. But instead he thrust into her, growling for a moment and incapable of speech, mindlessly pushing with his feet against the grass and trying to fit more deeply inside her. And she was no better, tightening those strong thighs to the point that the small of his back creaked ominously. "I love y- AH!" Fiona's breathless declaration was cut off as her ravenous Daddy began thrusting into her, the weight of his cock splitting her wide and her channel struggling to hold him. It had been some time since they'd been together and she could feel it- her body feeling him as a solid column impaled inside her. His hands- his cool, lovely hands were moving over her breasts, stroking and rubbing them, pulling her nipples and biting and kissing down her throat. When his lips felt the heated pull of the Infinity Stone inside her, he paused, whispering an arcane enchantment that seemed to fuse them together. Backs arching, they found themselves off the grass and hovering high in the air, Loki still seated deep inside her and Fiona's hips still circling, enjoying his corresponding groan. "Is this you- or them- or-" she asked, noticing for the first time that they were still drifting, moving closer to the sky than the ground.

Loki chuckled lovingly, putting one big hand behind her head to hold her still as he kissed her lingeringly, even though their hips were still moving furiously towards completion. "It is us, darling. Together." His other palm spread over her ass, fingers wide to squeeze and greedily grope her as he pushed her up and down on his glistening cock. Fiona slipped her fingers between their joined bodies, fingers bracketing his shaft and and moaning in pleasure. 

"So full, Daddy," she gasped, "I'm going to split open, I swear, you're-"

"Not yet, little girl," Loki whispered with all the power of his beautiful, poisonous voice, lips moving against her ear and feeling her shiver. "Not until your Daddy allows it. I intend to push deeper still, so deep that you will feel me spear through your heart." His finger, slicked with their wet and arousal moved to her ass, circling the puckered rosebud there before pushing the tip inside. "So tight against me, lovely. So warm. So wet. You squeeze against me with such a heated, velvet coil." Fiona looked down at their joining, watching his cock disappear and wondering still how he could possibly fit inside her. When his thick finger began to push into her ass, her back arched violently, pushing him harder up her channel. "Not until your Daddy says yes..." he hissed.

Fiona's forehead dropped against his, eyes fluttering shut no matter how hard she tried to keep them open. And then she felt it- the Space Stone inside his head and it seared her inside her corneas- an electric blue that sparked against the violet rotation of the Power Stone inside her. And then the Infinity Stones made the decision for them and they came, Fiona screaming blissfully and Loki howling- his wolf rumbling just under his vocal chords. 

They both felt it- a violent displacement and an audible "Pop!" as they dropped through the ceiling of Tony Stark's massive kitchen and crashing through a side table and on to the floor. There was silence for a moment as the drywall rained down on them, chips of paint and plaster turning their hair white. And then, the yelling.

"WHAT THE HELL- hey, Fiona!" Stark ignored the extremely large hole in his ceiling heading for them with a huge grin, before seeing how their returning friends were entangled. 

"BROTHER! And my dear sister- oh, excuse me-" Thor tried to turn his head away from their obvious nudity and knocked painfully into a pillar.

"Loki- you found her! Hey, kid, you're- oh, shit." Banner started laughing awkwardly.

Natasha and Bucky were leaning against each other, howling with laughter while Steve turned completely around, staring at the wall.

 

"So explain the part about the Infinity Stones again?" Banner leaned forward eagerly, "I need to run a scan on you both and see how they're situated- they were huge in Than- in that glove, man! Can they just shrink down?"

Loki and Fiona was decently clothed and sitting in their living room, with their friends gathered around them. The news wasn't all good. 

"Heimdall has been imprisoned," Thor said bleakly. "Father knew he was the one who brought you all to the Bifrost. It is not... he will never be released." He looked down at his big paws, twisting them together. "He told me that he knew this would happen. That he chose it, but-"

Loki looked down at Fiona, giving her a kiss on her forehead. "How could you have possibly convinced Heimdall to break his royal conditioning. His golden eyes are a sign- absolute obedience to the throne."

She looked stricken. "I never thought- Jesus, Mary and Joseph it never hit me that your asshole dad- I mean- your-"

"No, Odin is, indeed, an asshole," Loki assured her, and when he glanced at Thor, his brother glumly nodded along with his statement.

"We gotta get him out of there, then!" she protested, "It's not right! Heimdall did the moral thing, he shouldn't-"

"He made his choice, darling," Loki interrupted. "But we will rescue him." To his surprise, everyone nodded along with him, including Thor.

Refilling her wine glass and grabbing another sandwich, Fiona looked up and smiled as Bucky came over, enveloping her and the sandwich in a hug. "I thought you were gone, Doll," he managed, "I thought-"

"Ridiculous," Stark moved them aside to grab the vodka bottle, looking in the freezer for more ice cubes. "Fi never died. Neither  one of them did. Hell of a production though, kids."

"What?" Fiona screeched, "I did too die! What the hell, Stork?"

"No you didn't," he disagreed calmly, "you just poofed off. At least Loki kind of died first."

"Kind of died?" Loki queried haughtily, "You did not notice as the Titan crushed my neck?"

"Yeah..." Bucky said reflectively, "that was intense. The grip on that purple psycho..." Noticing Fiona glare at him, he amended, "Yeah, that was terrible."

"I did TOO die!" Fiona was still arguing, feeling like she was somehow shortchanged here.

Natasha sipped her cocktail reflectively, "If you think about it, Cap and Bucky here are really the ones who died and came back first, so they-"

 

Heimdall chuckled in the freezing glass cube where Odin had imprisoned him, the guards looking up in confusion as the giant, golden-eyed guardian continued to laugh in genuine pleasure. No one had ever seen Heimdall crack a smile, much less laugh out loud. But he was enjoying the sparring and ridiculous, pointless arguments of the Avengers more than he'd expected to. Prince Loki and Prince Thor had found a family on Midgard, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he would be joining them, too. Odin's time was coming to an end.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following Loki and Fiona to the end of their trip- this story is dear to me, because so much of it could be communicated through the songs I love and so many more that you've suggested. I hope their Banshee playlist gives you many hours of pleasant listening. Nothing is more inspirational to me than music. And sex with Loki, of course.


End file.
